Mist

The nagging cold is receding slowly.
What remains now is Invisibility.
The mist.
Thick and cool, mesmerising.
She doesnt remind herself of her pending jobs.
She satisfies at the thought that she can now smoke
In the absence of a cigarette.
Thick and cold fog.
Redundant goals, fake aspirations.
Unaware of where she is going.
Hail Blissful Ignorance.