I really admired your smile.
The way your teeth brightens up the world.
Saying hello to the dark clouds, even from a mile.
Even when there's mist in the way and all blurred.
I miss the clothes you wore and your perfect style.
Clothes that hug your body but not too absurd.
Style that makes you look sexy but also classy;
Garments that fits your profile.
I wonder what language your tongue speaks now.
I remember the way you spoke French.
The type of kisses I received but now forgetting how.
Now you are just a thirst I wish I could quench.
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Was I a Model in Japan?
During my time in Nagoya I worked and lived at the strangely famous hostel and café Nagonoya. With its chequered floors and florescent lighting it felt quite dated, but I think that was supposed to be part of the charm. The dorms were always fully booked on weekends with domestic tourists and there was always a buzz in the downstairs café. Camera crews were constantly in and out of the place interviewing the Japanese staff members who worked the café. I think it had something to do with the egg sandwiches. At least that was what was on most of the merchandise, except for that one dishcloth with the owner’s face on it. Was I being employed by a local celebrity?
By Susanna Kiernan5 days ago in Wander
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