I feel like putting on a dress from the 1940's; curling my hair; pinning it; with red lipstick; sitting in a tranced white room, drinking red wine and writing poetry.
i'll move closer to my piano and play a sad song of deep love and heartbreak from this poor make-believe girl. eat chocolate. and more wine. making my lips in the shape of a small 'o' to seem more sad, seductive or proper. and of course, i'll be as articulate as porrible, pretending there is someone there to notice.
grab a few blankets.
curl up in my chair.
hot coffee now.
don't 'cha think the rain drops falling on the windowsill are some sort of a cliche'?
sounds like a song.
i want to be kissed in the rain.
i'm quite ready to be painted, as if i was back in the old french royalty.
"andrea mademoiselle, s'il vous plaît soyez prudent de ne pas bouger. vous drap votre jambe dans le fauteuil de ce genre, s'il vous plaît?"
"oui monsieur, bien sûr."
rainy days are the best to live in.
i'm in a sort of sane insanity. only the rain makes this possible.
and more yet, romantic. i feel like i could fit quite perfectly in a french society.
Some sort of an intense passion as it bangs down on the roof.
I'm perfectly content. I'll grab Anthony Trollope's: "The way we live now" and devour it.
Cheers to the masterpiece.
My French is terrible, so the part about the chair... you're sitting in it funny?
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I wanted to say DON'T give up on that romance some might call cheesy! When people try to tell you you're old fashioned or something, you can always point them to "new"fashioned models of so called 'romance' like Brittany Spears and tell them thanks but no thanks.
You just keep being you!
Haha oh leon, I just love youu! :]
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