Night is changing into day. City lights are switching off. Long, Empty streets. I walk and my infinitude is cutting me in half. I lay down at the foot of the sky-scraper. I wish someone were here. The tenants are coming out still dreamy, smelling like coffee. When they se me lying, my legs spread and my eyes full of lon- Ing, they halt with wide open eyes. The coldness of concrete Freezes my bones. Maybe all is in vain. An elderly man approa- Ches, a bag in his hand, and diffidently asks: would you come To my place. I say no, let? s do it here, so i can watch the rows Of bells and the lists tenants while you penetrate me. He lea- Ves; the coldness and humidity of the early morning give me Shudders. I pick up my rags. Nobody else comes out. My desire For utter pain is crazy. Is it?