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.