Night

I am empty. This broad I'm looking at needs it and will go for anyone. She's looking at me, which means it's my turn this time. I came to enjoy my drink alone in peace, my mind will not allow me to refuse the situation. Chit-chat. Move to house. Two minutes after she's realizing she's the one being taken for a ride. The juices are flowing so much by now that it's too far gone to care. For anyone in the world to care. Sweat. An hour in seconds. Too tired for regrets. Sleep... In the morning a smoke, I look out the window. A sound of a flute in the background, a child practicing? She looks expressionless yet angry at the scene. Coffee in hand, "do you mind if I smoke?" She exits wordlessly and noiselessly, and I wonder just how in the world did that dead pigeon end up on the opposite building´s balcony. Don´t move. Nothing moves in me but a cigarette. Being the window being consumed. A beam of ash hangs for eternity until it collapses. I couldn't care.