We are far away She leaves the house, yellow coat unzipped. He sees a mosquito, misplaced from the snow melting today. Syllables, soft syllables, not words. The mosquito flew awkwardly, off to his right. She lights a cigarette from the pack she hides in her car. A sweet, brown red burn at the end of her nose. Somnolence, when will it come? She asks him this. She laughs too. How lovely her teeth must be. The smoke spews from her nose, blows from her lips. He can feel the oddity of winter in the breeze. In the misted rain that floats down upon his coat. Grey fleece, black street, tall house. Tonight, chimes. Tubular bells. Music to be improvised in the touch of hands. The scent of hair, unwashed, closely held. Forever exists nowhere in time. That's what he says, and she repeats. Do you know how it is without anyone? Forever, my love. Forever. My love. Chimes. Bells. Wind. The cigarette is tossed to the ground.