Between songs, I listen to balls click one against the other across the smooth tables behind me. I close my eyes and imagine the press of his body into mine. I slip a cigarette from the pack in front of me, steady it between my lips. The man beside me offers a light. His fingers are long and dark. I hold his gaze in the bar's dim light. He asks if I’m meeting someone. I take a slow breath, and letting it out say, you.