Wine and Cigarettes

French Girl, laying on the bed,

tusseld brown hair wild on her head.

The morning is soft and gold and bright.

I’m thankful she stayed, more than a night.

Sleepy blue eyes and a shy smile she gives.

In these stolen moment, I find a dream that lives.

Nowhere to be today, we’ll share the day in this room.

A lover’s nest at once a temple, a paradise and a tomb.

A kiss to seal the morning, and that in this day we are one.

A place will always belong to here in my heart, never undone.

Wine and cigarettes as the day grows bright, then turns dark.

A passion is a drug, a dream, a wild fire from a kisses spark.

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