I'm watching you. I'm spying on you. My wandering doesn't confront my desire for you. Getting lost in the cities or in the few yards of a room, provokes the same addiction as losing myself in your arms or other obscurities of the flesh.
I'm taking photographs of you. I'm trying to keep you close to me longer. I'm following you everywhere: in the streets, in the pubs, in your bathroom. I'm seizing you with a picture. And I'm always hungry. I like watching the appearance of wrinkles at the corners of your lips. The great sun hides me, the darkness makes my eyes see further.
I'm making an appointment which we shall not attend.