Is there then a world where I rule absolutely on fate?
A time I bind with chains of signs? An existence become endless at my bidding?
- Wislawa Szymbrokska
It was a night in Paris,
it was a bottle of wine and a warm baguette
It was an afternoon in Baltimore,
it was a plate of crabcakes and cheap beer
It was a morning in New Orleans
eggs benedict and coal black coffee
Full plates, languid afternoons
beds that were soft and exhausted
They are all moments I recall; true people wrapped around fiction
It is my life, it is the life I dreamed of