Because the night belongs to lovers, because the night belongs to poo.
It’s actually this morning’s poo, but photographed at night on the stern of the boat from my very new secret location. And the music I can hear from this new spot is not Patti Smith, but what I would describe as arabic music (apologies for my ignorance). It’s Saturday night. They have a mike and shishas. I have poo on the stern and little battery. Bye.