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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