Gently the smokes rises,
Like clouds of silk from my mouth
And I watch as the exhale distorts.
I watch the people dance,
As they move in slow motion;
The heaving mass twists and contorts.
My glass becomes empty,
So I reach for the bottles
And the darkness begs me to stay.
As the smoke starts to clear,
The lights dim, the music stops.
All eyes on me; with nothing to say
