יום ראשון של חודש היומולדת שלי
יום שני אחרי סילבסטר
פאריז
Jazz and gothic architecture do not go
together.
neither does café
crème
and wicker chairs in winter.
I
am alone in Paris running away from ghosts.
In
my backpack are two clementines and
in
my chest is an angry broken heart.
Every
pair of beautiful lovers that I see
reminds
me of how much I want to run further
usually
the fantasy destination is Alaska
on
a dock, overlooking windy fjords filled with fish.
I'm
wearing a knitted sweater and my hair is much shorter...
Strutting
down fashion streets where the word "chic" was invented
I
pretend I am not bothered by the fact that
I
can afford nothing
and
I despise my physical self.
The
non-kosher delicatessen in the sparkling windows
sends
me running further
to
a cabin in Wyoming surrounded by alder woods
I'm
learning how to weave blankets next to a lake...
I
just drank my first not-so-great coffee in this romantic Kingdom of
Nostalgia
so,
I try to look into the corner of people's eyes and remember
that
life isn't about pain.
 |
| Seagulls in le Jardin des Tuileries. |
