Smoke curls like a tearjerking cliché from her American cigarette.
Sweet singers and quick rappers dance on the beat.
The beat repeats and repeats.
Goths and cowboys are upstairs playing pool.
I'm snapping photos and drinking: preserving and erasing
And playing it cool
Wondering where I'll sleep and imagining who I'll meet in this foreign port city
I remind myself that it's the smoke that's causing the burning behind my eyes.
A few stories above the street
A cigarette dangling from a stranger's mouth
Smells bittersweet.