Monthly Archives: July 2010

Il Fait Chaud

I know it sounds lame and cliché, but on a melting hot day like today, when humidity becomes unbearable, nothing is better than sitting in front of the telly, under the breeze of the AC, watching Carrie Bradshaw and the rest of the ladies exchanging nonsense, perfect moments or facts of life, strolling in the city of coolness, showing off their most bizarre yet stylish outfits.

The other best part is when you hear the noise that the water makes while boiling (just like us!) and calls for a hot Earl Gray tea with a tiny bit of milk on top, with a welcoming blueberry After Eight chocolate, dipped in tea in the same floral mug.

After all this bliss, another new episode starts and you realize that you have yet to write more journal entries just before Zzzz comes along.

S

Bruised

The bluish screen burns my eyes,

rapes my skull; the golden wings

rise and stun me not like him, not like

you; like no existence in a fantasized world.

I feel and cling to his red beating heart;

the pearl shaped bullet in the centre of his

spine does not bother, nor wakes me up;

unless it hurts and cringes his deluded mind.

I see the three nude dancers abandoning

the green hills, revolving on the blue tiles,

repeating the same motion as the Coyote Ugly,

copying the ebb and flow, running fast as the Lola girl.

I open my eyes, first the left then the right, and

see the old notes, still resting on the melting floors;

blaming me for my dreams, waiting for someone to

play them right on an honest stage, in a true scene.

I stay in bed, in desperate need of

dark roasted to flush out my

bruised night.

S