On the whole, this is another great poem, paperleaves.
For what it's worth, I do think Virgil has a point in saying the ending of the poem could be subtler; I think it strays too much into 'telling' rather than 'showing', to invoke Henry James's famous dictum. Perhaps something simpler like:
so now, you cry, in an antiquated accent,
sobbing for sleep, thinking He can hear you
I'm not keen on the line breaks, they seem a bit arbitrary (particularly 'wheezes' as a line by itself) and work against the flow of the measured, thoughtful tone of the subject. Maybe you should consider working in syllabics, where you just stick to a set number of syllables per line (as a basic rule of thumb); at least that gives the poem an element of control. In fact the first two lines:
the mocha loveseat, dusted with ashes
from the foot of your Maduro cigar,
both have 10 syllables, so would be an ideal form for the rest of the poem. I'm also unsure about 'loveseat' in the first line, I think it sets the wrong tone for what's to come.
But still, there are some wonderful images; the characterisation is spot-on and tenderly evoked; and the contrast between the comfort of now and the horrors of the past is strongly expressed.