I'm haunted by Serge Gainsbourg.

An isolated place.

My speakers are rattling & I love the sound of a rain shower. Serge Gainsbourg is cooing, & now I'm staring at red lights across the screen.

Tu t'appelles comment? Melody. Melody comment? Melody Nelson.

Red lights & a fall of ivory cloth. My vision is impaired. "Care to explain?" I ask, but there's no answer. He cocks his head to one side & I'm left wondering what he's like. Black hair, smoky eyes, full lips, a red bike beneath the burning wheels of a Rolls Royce. I want to sleep, my head tucked, serene. But the sleep refuses me.

They're rattling again. A dark, grimy cityscape. A leather-clad hand against a cherub's face.

I'm gone.

Words by Kerra Dolarhyde
Read 891 times
Written on 2007-10-12 at 23:18

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have you moved to Asia?

Ivan R
What a cool text. A dream in smoke, music, longing, just great.

Language: 5
Format: 4
Mood: 4
Overall: 5