I feel I have the right to you here in this particular moonlit spot: this mattress, this frame, these hypoallergenic bed clothes.
Hand in hand we stroll down the street of Victorian houses where spinsters spy from lace-curtained windows and with a yawn retire to their boredoms already knowing how we’re going to end up.
My Brief Affair
Last summer I ran away with an interesting young man but I was smoking at the time.
I tried to make you think I couldn’t be bothered with me. It worked well for you but I soon developed a tic.
Why I Travel Alone
Your anger erupts red hot its lava setting fire to the sole of my shoe like that time at the marketplace in Lebanon when you called me extravagant for buying too many grapes.
The two of us happy together again on the Rue de Fleurus with your odd-ball friends… but this can’t be right. I’ve never been to Paris.