I hadn't come to the hospital since the last overdose of a friend that shooted whisky in his veins, in the bathroom of an old bar because of a heartbreak. I told the nurse to don't leave me, to be with me the whole time and that if she could light a cigarette for me, sure honey take a smoke, she said and rubbed my head softly like if my dreams where cotton pieces. The body. The night. The blood. Inside my body an invisible, warm hand was digging and took chunks of light and silence. A black hole was opening up through my bones and was filling them with blood and noise. Later a doctor came in and told me that the business was serious, told me to stay still, and asked me what was my blood group, I told him that I knew a little about blood groups, that if he wanted I could talk to him about rock groups, a little bit of Jimi Hendrix Experience, of Cream. No way, the business is serious, sayed the doctor, so I looked at the nurse and I wanted to be with her in a party dancing Spend The Night Together, I wanted to be with a glass of *****, I wanted to give her a kiss in the middle of her white teeth, I wanted to tell her Baby let's get out of here and make love in the beach, I wanted to be in her hands full of trees.