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By night

I talked to my
             nocturnal angel,
                                        and –
He laughed –
              and fluttered wings –
                                  and wrinkled his nose,
When catching whiffs
                               of grey
                                         tobacco smoke
That lingered
                      in the air
And then,
                 as if to wave
                                      the smoke away,
I raised
        the hand
                       with a flawless manicure,
I said:
         “Now, my winged messenger,
                                           let’s do it -
Let’s fly
             as high
                            as only  we may!”