Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me. The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.
Hours staring at the ceiling, the wall, curling up into a ball. It seems
annoyed with the light, it kind of recoils. It will get lighter. I wonder
where it goes in the day.
