Two and a half dumplings lay wasted on the plate.
Lazy swaying haze
erupting with an eased reluctance
from the ignored cigarette.
Smells of whiskey from the air arise,
tiny fragrance of spirit indulged with ice.

Inky shadows disturbed the empty room.
Silence altercating with pulse of the clock.
Strumming of six strings broke in on occasion,
partnered by a song.
Low, long and strong.