While drinking a beer on my roof
I saw a man on the other side
of this river on his balcony
set his cigarette to light.
I waved and asked him
about last night,
what are we doing
and why,
still awaiting his reply.

He went back in,
his favourite sin,
smoking with a grin
was now forbidden behind doors,
he had to come back out
again, to press his lips
and move the air
from lungs to fingertips.

How dare he be without defining,
how dare he deny the silver lining,
how could he act without any further thought
and throw away the things he just had bought.
(seemingly so eagerly)

I accepted friendship from this man.
As I took another sip from my can,
I knew that he could tell
when I noticed my own fingertip
that it was ridden with that smell.