we were

standing in fishermen’s spot, smoking in the dark.

on the other shore of the lake,

a saturday night summer party

was breaking down the silence and those

humans voices sounded

louder than their music.

for moment,

I don’t know what you were thinking about,

but I was in Dirty Dancing.

without melons.

a few seconds I listened to do you love me playing

in my head.

then I came back to us and

you were so fucking hot

with a t-shirt around your neck, while

the lake shone

under the strings of light bulbs that adorned

the opposite side.

so, gazing at you, I could distinguish a perfect

form.

along with our cigarettes smoke,

I inhaled its scent, left all over me,

when we were…