So we flew away. And he fed me take out on the floor, stroke my hair and held my hand. The three of us took over the nights in Paris, listening to Louise Attaque all night long while emptying endless bottles of wine. We smoked cigarettes, forgot that we ever had voices and joined in a silent humming. Life was good and I felt safe. Yet I couldn't write it down, I couldn't say it out loud - I was stuck in a fantasy and we all know that those tend to slip away as soon as we make them public. I was happy as ever, still something was missing..
I stopped eating, had an exclusive relation with cigarettes and wine. Started again after too many disappointed looks from him. There were never any arguments, just the looks in his eyes and the times he turned away and disappeared into the night "to think".. I messed up and was minutes away from loosing it all. So I picked myself up from the street, with the help of my two big loves, my lovers in silk. And together we played the charade of life, still trying to figure out the lines, but it is always less hard when three sharing..
Showing posts with label cigarettes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cigarettes. Show all posts
2011-05-24
Tuesday is fun day
Darlings. The sky turned grey and screamed out my name today. The apartment shivered and I searched for my cigarettes, they were nowhere to be found. Empty bottles in a line, all the way down the hallway to the bathroom. Empty bottles, dried out. No more soul, no more fun. Now is the time where we rest in each others arms. We get naked and expose our hearts during blurry nights à la woodstock, at least that's what they told me I did. Do we trust them? Can we? Love is all around and mother is keeping watch. I miss C and everything is upside down. Should I stay or should I go?
2011-03-14
paris says..
At a party. C is queen. In control, wearing silk, shimmering. All the girls wear clumsy wedges. Not a stiletto in sight. Where are we? Me, in control, in the corner, alone. Out on the floor - no control.
A girl smokes golden cigarettes in the window sill. She painted them. I can see a little spot she missed, right next to her pinkie. That's right, she holds them between her pinkie and ring finger.
A boy comes out from the kitchen with a silver tray. Foie gras and something that looks like flour. Does he want to brag? Does he live here? C walks up to him and says, with a british accent:
- That really looks like poop, referring to the foie gras.
The boy looks offended. And so she is the center of attention. Who is the silk queen from far away? Poor boy.
Paris makes me scream. No need for the good-girl-charade. In the circle shaped room, in what corner can I hide?
A girl smokes golden cigarettes in the window sill. She painted them. I can see a little spot she missed, right next to her pinkie. That's right, she holds them between her pinkie and ring finger.
A boy comes out from the kitchen with a silver tray. Foie gras and something that looks like flour. Does he want to brag? Does he live here? C walks up to him and says, with a british accent:
- That really looks like poop, referring to the foie gras.
The boy looks offended. And so she is the center of attention. Who is the silk queen from far away? Poor boy.
Paris makes me scream. No need for the good-girl-charade. In the circle shaped room, in what corner can I hide?
2011-03-02
travel-pass
Packed my bags. Went to comfort C in another part of this world..
C has her own apartment. A deal made with her mother, some sort of growing up strategy - still she is living in the building next to her. The apartment is filled with mirrors in big, ancient golden frames. Ironic since C hates the image of herself. I walk through the spacious corridor that is the centre of her home. Enter the living room area. Everywhere I turn I can see notes up on the walls. C follows my eyes. Therapy thing, she mumbles.
I traded one balcony for another. One love for another. We sit together, smoking. Not talking. No need of words. She holds her teacup with both hands, they have the same color as eggshells. Her hands that is. I observe. Her body trembles. But her hands are still. Her bruised collarbones, fragile smile expose her, she is not well. Yet, she is better than the last time I saw her. That makes me glad.
We spend the morning on that balcony. Sharing cigarettes, a tea pot. In her company there is always too much smoking, never enough eating. It feels relieving though. A man is staring at us from his window across. C waves and gives him of one her juvenile smiles. It's the time, of the season, for loving..
C has her own apartment. A deal made with her mother, some sort of growing up strategy - still she is living in the building next to her. The apartment is filled with mirrors in big, ancient golden frames. Ironic since C hates the image of herself. I walk through the spacious corridor that is the centre of her home. Enter the living room area. Everywhere I turn I can see notes up on the walls. C follows my eyes. Therapy thing, she mumbles.
I traded one balcony for another. One love for another. We sit together, smoking. Not talking. No need of words. She holds her teacup with both hands, they have the same color as eggshells. Her hands that is. I observe. Her body trembles. But her hands are still. Her bruised collarbones, fragile smile expose her, she is not well. Yet, she is better than the last time I saw her. That makes me glad.
We spend the morning on that balcony. Sharing cigarettes, a tea pot. In her company there is always too much smoking, never enough eating. It feels relieving though. A man is staring at us from his window across. C waves and gives him of one her juvenile smiles. It's the time, of the season, for loving..
2011-02-10
drained
Exhausted. As a result of no sleep, to many thoughts, too heavy to bear. My head is banging. Haven't been able to close my eyes even for a second, to much going on inside of me. My headache is not from drinking to many bottles of wine last night. I would like to bang it in to the wall. Because that kind of pain I can take. But this, this is something else..
I escaped last night. When I woke up from my coma I realised that I haven't met him for a few days. Just the distraction I needed. So I went to his place. We made up a fire, emptied a couple of bottles, smoked each other down to the filter and made love, whenever our subjects of discussion ran out. I ended up sitting naked in front of the fire, staring. Together we fed the fire with old Elle mags, and she licked everything we gave her. I saw the thin smiles of spotlight girls disappear into it. For a second I thought about c, but then he kissed my neck, continuing down my spine - and I forgot about all the sadness and choose to live in the moment, as of right now.
I escaped last night. When I woke up from my coma I realised that I haven't met him for a few days. Just the distraction I needed. So I went to his place. We made up a fire, emptied a couple of bottles, smoked each other down to the filter and made love, whenever our subjects of discussion ran out. I ended up sitting naked in front of the fire, staring. Together we fed the fire with old Elle mags, and she licked everything we gave her. I saw the thin smiles of spotlight girls disappear into it. For a second I thought about c, but then he kissed my neck, continuing down my spine - and I forgot about all the sadness and choose to live in the moment, as of right now.
2011-02-02
walking down memorylane
Dutiful Wednesday. Loads to do, will not do any. Long for the summer or spring, well at least for a warm breeze that gently strokes my cheek. I miss the colorful blindness you get from staring in to the sun too long. I miss the freckles on my knees. I miss sable under my feet. So I run, far far away. Days like these are made for wine, cigarettes and endless daydreaming. I sit in the window sill and I remember..
We ran through the grass. The dewdrops licked my ankles wet. We were hundreds, well at least a dozen. Sky painted softly in apricot. Afternoon had turned into evening, night and now morning. We were out on an adventure in the woods. Surrounded by green. We made fires, danced around them singing softly, shouting loudly. We built a community, for just one night.
I met him for the first time out there. I loved his curls and I adored his voice. He sang to me that night and he spoke french like a native. We shared wine bottles, cigarettes and breaths. We made love under the stars, like one of those virgin cliches. Still it was no cliche. He swept me away, heart body and mind all at once. And I found myself lying on my back out on a field. The others just a few feet away. He tucked his shirt under my head and touched my collar bone with his fingertips while whispering the world was made for us and no one but us
We ran through the grass. The dewdrops licked my ankles wet. We were hundreds, well at least a dozen. Sky painted softly in apricot. Afternoon had turned into evening, night and now morning. We were out on an adventure in the woods. Surrounded by green. We made fires, danced around them singing softly, shouting loudly. We built a community, for just one night.
I met him for the first time out there. I loved his curls and I adored his voice. He sang to me that night and he spoke french like a native. We shared wine bottles, cigarettes and breaths. We made love under the stars, like one of those virgin cliches. Still it was no cliche. He swept me away, heart body and mind all at once. And I found myself lying on my back out on a field. The others just a few feet away. He tucked his shirt under my head and touched my collar bone with his fingertips while whispering the world was made for us and no one but us
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