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I've
come back to the apartment. To the room.
You're
here. But perhaps it's not you.
''Have
you called?''
No,
I haven't because
''You
know I like surprises''
Yes,
you do
But
your voice is not the same. It comes from the walls.
''Come
on''
Your
hand. Yes, love, I wish I could but we both know that it's not your
hand.
''Come
on''
Your
lips. Not your lips, of course, but I don't care any more.
Any
more.
I
kiss you. I touch your hand. I hear your voice. I enter the room. I
come back to the apartment.
Again.
I've lost track of how many times.
