I know the world very often.

At night, on the streets of Neon, the white-collar suit, the white-collared suit, which was wrapped around her shoulders, the knitted knobs under the light, and she walked on her heels to the corner of the street with her familiar barbecue, and the male boss rolls up his sleeves and shows up his arms, and under the aprons, they're just nodding, and the two of them meet each other tonight, and the white-collar drink, her cheeks are red, the male boss's fingers don't touch her wrists, and the air gets thicker in the air, and she doesn't walk away, she's getting close, she's breathing.