God, coffee, cigarettes

I
Do you think this is it?
What do you mean?
You know, god.
I never talk about god before breakfast.

.
II
Black, she questioned quietly.
Yes, with sugar, he whispered
Have none, she mumbled.
No wonder you didn’t ask, he sighed.

.
III
I never understood
why anyone smoked, she said.
And I never understood why
anyone but smokers would wonder, he answered.

.
.

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