Night urban landscape
cigarette crumpled between fingers
Questions that remained unanswered
Our last evening
In the last month of summer
Left somewhere…
Among the stooping pale lanterns
Among the closed doors…
Knocking down hopelessly heels
Under the influence of diluted whiskey
You will erect obelisks to the past
Wipe out of your hand
So you won’t get close…
Yes… Nonsense…