I am sitting naked in my chair
that over looks
the sunshine and yellow leaves
from ten stories up
I am listening to Django Rheinhart
I am smoking my pipe
I am looking over at my
beautifully naked girlfriend
still lying in my bed
the room smells
of pipe smoke, sex
and the fresh-baked
cinnamon rolls
we made this morning.
My apartment is covered in books�
a library with a bed in it,
my girlfriend likes to say�
my apartment is covered in jazz.
my apartment is a time machine.
In here we live a forgotten age.
I watch her fasten the black straps
of her bra
I watch the smoke of my pipe
aggressively run to its fate
in the blades of my ceiling fan.
I watch the seconds of the song
count down.
We are getting ready for the ballet.
We live the lives of books and films.
Young. In love. Naked.
It may only be a paper moon
hanging over a canvas sky
But until the lights go off
we dream
we continue to dream
12:52 p.m. - 2011-10-16
Recent entries:
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
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The Paper - 2014-10-13
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