SHORTS: drunken

he pulls me toward him,

starts muttering in my ear,

congratulatory remarks

that somehow feel out of place,

and suddenly I see my father,

dark eyes glazed like glassy stones,

there but not present, lips slightly parted,

the smell of cigar smoke strong and sweet,

his body slanted, just a little too close.

as his hand brushes my arm,

he reaches right through me.

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