Caffetto

Why should that city, defenseless and pure as the wedding
necklace of a forgotten tribe, keep offering itself to me?

What evil in me, what pity, has made me deserve this offering?

Here there is no earlier and no later; the seasons of the year and
of the day are simultaneous.

I was running, as the silks rustled, through room after room
without stopping, for I believed in the existance of a last door.

In the immobile light I move my lips and perhaps I am even
glad not to find the desired word.

Czeslaw Milosz

Fhima's. dt St. Paul. Saturday. I DJ, you drink martinis.

x

Jenny

I'm bored. How are you hun??

I'm bored. How are you hun??

I'm bored. How are you hun??

I miss the snow. It's nice to see you in it, look at you, you're a fine looking building. I dream of your two large windows and your big front door.