Cigarettes and whisky The perfect concoction for the keeping the lonely at bay The lady sways to the infectious melody as the jazz band plays Savouring the make-believe world her closed eyes brings her to With every inhale, she throws her head back She ruffles her hair on her face and sniffs the remnants on her fingers Scents always have a way of bringing her to places Places she has been and never been; like that ten seconds in the elevator, or that last time she stood to watch planes take off With every exhale, she lets out her sigh, ever so softly The night feels young but she feels old.