up in smoke (I WISH)

i have the biggest cigarette craving i've ever had.
i would smoke ashes if i could.
it's all i can think about.
that, and the silence.

i would like to get away.
to magically find myself on an airplane, soaring.
the hum of the engines in my blocked ears.
i would like to feel my swollen feet pacing up and down the aisles as i impatiently wonder where the hell i am going.
i want to look for my passport and have empty pockets.
i want to disappear.
i would like to step off the plane, empty-handed.
i would like to hear my heels clacking along the long, bright halls of whatever airport i find myself in.
i'll look through the windows as i walk along long corridors past traveling strangers.
i'll arrive at the exit.
i'll reach into my jacket pocket (i don't need my jacket, it's warm) and pull out my pack of camels.
i'll slip one out of the soft paper pack and place it between my red lips.
i'll hear a flick and then the quiet crunch of the burning tobacco.
i'll look at the hand as the flame disappears.
i'll follow the hand up to the shoulder, my eyes traveling slowly.
i'll lock eyes with this generous stranger.
i'll inhale deeply and take a step back.
the stranger will slowly brush back my hair, his leather jacket softly moving.
the stranger will slowly reach for my hand.
i'll let him lead me towards a cab stalled on the corner.
i'll take one last drag off my cigarette and toss it to this foreign curb.
the engine will rev and i will fasten my seatbelt.
i'll stare out the window as we pass unfamiliar buildings.
i'll stare up at the clouds as i watch them move ever so slowly.
i'll blink and sigh.
"you're not in kansas, anymore." says the stranger, and smiles a cheshire cat grin.