His lover listened to Xavier Naidoo after he left for work in the morning. It was tragic, she told him over lunch. Not knowing what else to say, she continued: It’s like a little mouth. It’s tight-fisted and arbitrary like a painting by Anselm Kiefer. He pulled her hair back in a ponytail and watched her lips form the words he knew would come. I’m leaving, he said, before she got the chance to say goodbye. He pulled out the ticket from his back pocket: Lisbon. One way. It was the only way she would believe him, although she had seen it all in the Xavier Naidoo video after he left for work.