She holds his hand the same way she holds her cigarette-
Flirtatiously, without commitment
Clipped between her fore and middle fingers
As she snaps her wrist back
And laughs with her company,
Twirling the miniature baton.
Her cool breath slips in,
A light wisp exiting the end.
She puffs again
Then deposits it in a nearby ashtray,
Slamming one end straight into the dish
Crushing the glow.