People came and went all night, welcomed by the warm evening, the 12-piece jazz band, rich restaurant aromas and the boundless night sky. I hear their enthusiasm as they’re escorted to their tables. These Geneva people seem more Germanic and reserved than the French, although they’ve stolen our language. Maybe they license French or subscribe to it, like Spotify.

Peter (my bf) and I danced, unburdened by tomorrows, on a terrace of frozen-ice like, pale-blue tiles. The spilled star-field glittered like fireworks on a dark canvas of a new-moon, black sky.

The distant, snow-covered Alps seemed to reach for the glistening cosmos, like spilled water rushing across a floor or children grasping at toys. Compared to this celestial gallery, the Geneva skyline looked as sad as an old stage prop.

The air was scented with blooming jasmine, baking bread and coffees. A breeze, in turns warm and cool, wrapped around us, sharing the dance by pressing my dress to me one moment and throwing it away the next.

The dress I picked it up in Paris earlier in the week - a svelte, Chiuri Dior, ‘New Look Silhouette’ in Prussian blue Chiffon and cobalt crepe - felt as lightweight, breathable and cool as workout-mesh.

Peter’s a good dancer. He’s firm yet gentle, guiding me effortlessly, in a lazy, jazz way, from the waist. When we’re in the flow, our choreography’s guided more by the unseen music than a set dance.

Our evening - I think it’s fair to say we owned it - turned into an unhurried night, before easing, unnoticed, into morning - as summer evenings tend to do.

Our words, in hushed tones, were washed away on the breeze and the music, lost to anyone but ourselves. Time never seemed more of an abstract and irrelevant construct - and if there was a world beyond those moments - it went unnoticed.
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Songs for this:
Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan
Lose My Breath (Feat. Charlie Puth) by Stay Kids, Charlie Puth
Stumblin’ In by CRYIL
**** to someone by Clairo

On the bike the rider is a blazing glory
winds to him whisper hair raising story
whizz past houses, trees, and towns
wheels giggle joyous with the ups and downs.

Girls on the sidewalks look up in awe
as the speed streaks on the wrong side of law
the copper burnt hands grip the baby tight
to ride away from dark and into the light.

Through the flash of clouds, torrents of rains
sun on the mountain, sunset's pink stains
piercing the wind, cutting across rainbow
steams the metal man, in seamless flow.

Days nights roll, beneath the grey arch
on an intense pursuit, one frantic search
he looks for a place where a loving hand
will open the door to the God's resting land.

a girl kissed a boy
and told him not to tell
he grew up to be a poet
with a promise kept so well
till he wrote one day a poem
that she’s found reading, but forgot
and wondered if it’s really him
and thinking that it’s not
but buried within these pages
and hidden within the rhyme
were words dripping from his lips
caressing every line
so she came in a little closer
and read it to the end
and found him in the poem
and kissed his lips again

Peering down from a terrestial heap,
contemplating the debate at the seams,
exposing dim lights and the ones asleep.

I sat awake, in solitude, lost like a sheep.
Per(re?)ceiving all the secrets in ones dreams;
beneath the veil, and the ones that we keep.

What the bars in ones mind are made of are cheap:
confining and containing what one can gleam
from the empty gaps and the mental leaps.

I hope those objects and night-lights help you sleep;
Plato's shadowy projections move with moonbeams,
the brimful moon ebbing causes the shadows to creep.

The farside is bare, in twilight;
the mind becomes a maverick:
turning fireflies to winking sprights.

Can you regard all that I see
when you dream with eyes-closed?
And In your dream do people speak in poem or prose?

Are you transmitting dimensions of three
or are you given your dreams?

Do you wonder who contains those moments
and where they are received?

If heaven is dreaming nigh
I wonder what we would be

If God sent a message
what might be the presage;
And what might be the conveyance?

When you're dreaming Angels touch the ground,
revealing all that is bound.
~dancing with the beyond~
And (angels) evaporate in the dawn, or atleast seeming..

Let your eyes unlock~
Quick! The Gates are sealing
Run to recapture all that they've been stealing:
From all those who wish to lower your cieling.

---

A gypsy is whistling who's been up all night.
The dreams of many slip into hidden spaces:
Closets and under the bed; spirits dissipate.

As morning's light eminates
What do you see?

Today of all days I am dividing my tears into sections,

With each moment, with each tear drop and snuffle I makes

The paper tissues will always thread,  

crumbling signs some mishaps in life

surely, cannot be mended;



Yesterday was your birthday,  

Today it's my revelation, of life, (my life)

It seems lately, that I have taken a new route,

This road definitely is not paved with gold.



God truly bless heroes; he never fails me yet!

But, for sure I have encountered some obstacles,

Empathy, or just plain stupidity,  

I am an empath, I never thought I was this kind of person

As we grow older, it's so true that we see life in a different setting

the lows, the in-between and the high moments.

My so intensity, emotions, as they rise,  

and as they drop to low frustrations tolerance, I see red

Today, I need my ginger shots: who cares if it is unhealthy?



Today of all days I am dividing my tears into sections,

With each moment, with each tear drop and snuffle I makes

The paper tissues will always thread, crumbling signs of

some mishaps in life that surely cannot be mended.

Does anybody care about the upcoming presidential election this year?

Already in us
The lifespan
Diminished
Dominion
Of domino theorists
Unfinished
With business abroad
And the world market
Over
Still pumping
And dumping
Their waste
Down our throat holes
And goes into veins
A cocktail
Of their chokeholds
And cold
As the pulse grows
More soullessly
Blood flows
The poisoned
Polluted
Precluded
Provision
Nutrition
Omission
Produces
Submission
And we are but lab rats
Experiments
Testing
Their chemical
Compounds
Of boundless
Ingesting

Saw an old man down by the riverside, lookin' 'bout half past dead/

Gave him two dollars and a penny, for to get a bottle just to cool his head/

Turned around to hand it back to me,  and I looked at him like he was mad/

Swept his gaze up to my eyes, and he gave a single shake of his head, /

Said "I've been here for a long while, and I'll stay until I'm good and dead,"/

"It's been a many year since I've sat here, and I'll stay 'til my kingdom come, /

I didn't know just what to say to that, so I asked, "Hey, mister, where you from?"/

He took a minute,  thinking 'bout everything,  and I thought he was dead/

Gave the biggest smile I have never seen,  and he turned to me,  and he said:/

"I come from over yonder, where the mountain starts, and the river ends"/

"The first thing I saw was the water; it'll be the last thing I see again, "/

"Yeah,  I came from the water, and if you see a friend of mine, "/

"Tell him he's still got a brother,  who won't let him get left behind..."/