A Cigarette and a Hug

Tonight, rather morning, is my third in a row, spent languishing in the office as the minute hand strokes midnight. Looping, eyelids drooping, I could use a soft embrace, and a long hot drag. My dress, very pretty, is stained with oil; working too hard, for too little. At the very least, my mind is not completely lost, though agility has been numbed; alluding to early Depeche Mode lyrics is an art not yet decayed.

(image taken from Awesome People Hanging Out Together)