Amazed at the sight I’m looking at. Relax and sleepy listening to Billie Holiday sings the blues. I am dying for some juice and gin.

“Old Soul” is what he calls me.

Not knowing what to do next, I am writing to myself to relieve my deprived needs.

Raindrops on my cigarette. Smoking away the crazy seconds that goes by in my life. A ritual. I am stupid for thinking smoking is a ritual.

Music changed. A glass of brandy in his right hand, sipping, he placed it beside me. He is so handsome. I am thirsty for some gin.

He’s flat-footed. I have just noticed that. Hmmm, no wonder.

At one point in his life, he was mine. At one point in my life, I was his. Crazy, so crazy. He amazes me. I can write in his presence, in his music, as he sips his brandy.

I look at him, singing along, me, me.

Take me in your kisses; sing me inside your heart. Hold me forever and more…in your gaze, smile, thought, dream, love me…

(Resurrected love letter)

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