Monsieur Axonge
A small light shinesfrom Monsieur Axonge
apartment.
In a few hours
he will have to rise
and open the Charcuterie
but for now he is content
to lie in bed
listening to the music
that emanates
from Madame's balcony.
Monsieur Axonge
recalls yesterday
when love
held a flower in her hair
and he did not sport
a black mustache,
just watched a vision
from his uncles shop
lightly dancing her way
out of his life
but deep into his heart
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2014-01-31 at 19:45
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