She takes a cigarette from the elegant case
And inhales a bygone era and not just the taste,
The feather boa hanging over her bed,
Beckons Hollywood glamour into her head,
The faux fur jacket slung over one shoulder
Is the only thing around to hold her,
The individually hand-painted glass
Holds the liquid dreams of her past,
The fashionable boots on her tired feet
Help to make her feel a little more complete,
And her shiny new phone
Is her only link to an abandoned home.
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