Fumes

Three women
Slink through the door
In various
Stages of undress
Bringing with them
The floral scent of promise
Something amiss
Amongst the charred
Cheap tobacco
And defeat

Through narrow slits
Tries to will
A single glance
Towards a dark corner
Where one man
Scribbles alone
But the behavior
Is predictable

They will order
One drink
Smell the fear
In this hole
And dissolve
While shadows sit
And question their lack