TO STAY: It was one o'clock at night, or one-thirty. In a corner of the tavern; behind the wooden partition. Besides the two of us, the place was completely empty. A kerosene lamp barely lit it. The watchful servant was sleeping at the door. No one would see us. But we had also faded away so much that we became unsuitable for precautions.

The garments were half-opened - there were not many because it was the sweltering month of July. The pleasure of flesh amongst the half-opened garments; a quick unveiling of flesh - whose idol had passed twenty-six years; and now it came to stay within this poem.