Black satin clutch, red satin lining. Private-detective A-line long jacket.
A feast, of forest butter, sea treasures, and roasted pheasants.
Among comrades, glittering hopefuls, strangers behind glass.
Charming night, gotta run, clock strikes twelve.
Hmph, both shoes stayed on.
4 comments:
(I recognize those toes.)
S.Y.P.W.C.
Most likely, anyway.
What is that?
It's an old-fashioned, sexist expression: Someday your prince will come. I think I put it only in capitals because it is embarassing for my generation. But it does have its truth. The truth of it may not be: waiting, and trusting, will "do it." The truth of it may be: we are never entirely alone, in the scarey meaning of alone, and therefore to wait and to trust have integrity; the other--others actually--really are out there.
Or so I believe.
Cool... you know me well!
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