Wednesday, 17 October 2012

Poetry is for cool people. Honestz.

This poem is a bit "Posh and Poncy." I was watching Breathless, and it made me feel all french and shit. So I wrote it, yeah? What do you think?  

So you whisper in my ear on that evening. 
Deep, sweet breath engulfs my senses: ‘let’s have some fun’. 
We dance, we flirt with boys we don’t know - 
you have that shirt on, that one which creases at the chest.
I live in those creases on that night. 

We drum on tables as the music gets too much.
We talk shit. We talk sense. 
I choke on your Gauloises. But I still draw in the smog,
Smooth as silk  with a stifling aftertaste.
Much like you.

We move, we sway, we love, we fuck with our eyes,
Our teeth, our hair.
And as we dance, my darling, as we move, 
Your hands stretch towards heaven, towards the unknown,
As if by elongating your body you will feel more,
Touch more, be more, you'll grab 
a piece of the night 
and put it in your breast pocket.

Ma Cherie, vous avez ete parfait ce soir. 

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