4 AM - the coldest, darkest hour of the day.
It's the end of summer. We're sitting on a small balcony, the girl sits on our lap.
You notice the street below is dirty and many of the buildings around are unfinished.
The chimneys on the finished building over there remind you of Easter island.
The sky is clear, you can make out the stars easily through the city's smog.
You wonder how many cigarettes you have left.
For a short moment you think of the one that hurts us - of the last chance you will give her tomorrow.
I don't notice any of this.
You told me it's chilly, but for me - that's just an excuse.
To pull her closer and to hold her tighter.
I seek her warm lips.
I caress her hot skin.
I smile at her.
There is beauty in this stolen moment.
It's intimate. It's sincere.
It will never happen again.
But now... Now it is.
She plays us a fitting song.
She sees us off at the bus stop.
No goodbye kiss.
No "I'll miss you."