White lies
His credit card klick- klacks as he racks up white lies Broken metronome
Uneven rhythm measuring out lost moments We’ve had a twenty-
year love affair, hegurns, tapping out more heart felt bullshit to a beat
If only he could hear himself sniffing drippingin pretty, white lies.
- Roxanne Escobales
This is not the life I asked for, but it’s the only one I’ve got.
He read me the whole chapter ofThe True Story of Kiki of Montparnasse.A cafe is not a church, she said,then stepped up on the chairand across the table,jumping down asgracefully as a gazelle.
I think you’d like Kiki, he said.She was the Queen of Montparnasse.When we first met, I told himI would not pose for photographs.
Just a portrait that you’ll like,he said, pointing his lens,just a portrait that you’ll like.
He’s trying to catch fireflies,not knowing they light for just a flash.
But this is his story of her story.And we all know how stories end.We all know how they end.
Longevity is overrated. Cameras lie.Give me a flash. Catch me a firefly.
You are not Man Ray, alas,And I no Queen of Montparnasse.
-Roxanne Escobales
there
blood
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