When the coldness of the night through a cloth
Digs into the muscle
He, glancing back,
Rises the bottle on his lips
Guess in the cold
He is throttled by loneliness
Raspily uttering a laugh
Squeezes the words out
I look at the surface of the bottle
I look at myself
Like a child longs for a breast
I long for myself
He, a bottle on his breast
Steps into the café
The price of a coffee cup
He cannot pay
That kind is a nuisance
Who protects his bottle with hands
When asphalt
He plows with his forehead
Sadness tears the chest
Again the parasites are alone
Harder than the cold surface of asphalt
Someones are
When I miss you sometimes in the night
It feels like to work
I could go for you
Come on baby, I long to you
And as empty too, with a dry mouth
I put you under protection, crammed you under the coat's hem
Even though you are the most kissed girl
Of this city
He gets to lie to a side of a grove
His lover as his company
Still gets a kiss,
And sinks to sleep
Into his mind surges
A fulfilled longing
Like Romans under the moon
Stars as their company, on the roots of a tree
The frost harvests away already at night
Only lovers could die like this