we want to live the knowledge too live the content

There is a pause. She ashes her cigarette. It falls on me. It seems like the birds have stopped too.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.

Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

"Anyway, you're you. I mean, look at you!" she says. "You could get with anyone, anyone in the street. Really."

it is hopeful

hiding from the rain

One of the birds shoots out of the tree.

After thinking and forgetting and thinking and forgetting