XXLove letters   

 

 

 

 

When we trespassed on the Land of The Invisible for the first time,

 

 

 

I threw a glance at the butte,

I felt disorientated,

It had been a long time since I took someone to see Francoise,

No, my feet didn’t lie,

                                      It was Tissus Reine,                                     

They got a lot of business,

Lovers of do-it-yourself had fun to shop here,

They prowled among fabric bolts,

Ribbon, pom-poms, threads,

Through many small fabric stores,

We entered one lost antique shop that travelers didn’t know,

‘It is Montmartre face control, mon ami,

It resists a moth siege like the City of Troy,

Some treasures are eaten into by moths,

There is no collateral loss,

In the untouched naphthalene land of objets decoratifs’,

Being squeezed between the sequined west coast and the ocean of gullible silk,

It worshipped bonnets and tassels,

It lied to the east of polka dots fabrics, black satin,

It had been closely guarded by a wide range of    mermaid statuettes,

We entered the world,

It wasn’t fueled by coffee,

It didn’t recycle breaths,

It didn’t wither in the cubicles of ambitions,

It was filled to the brim with treasures,

 It would have never traded the moon for fluorescent lamps,

Sweet winter music was playing,

The place was euphoric like a holiday garland with blinking lights,

A young woman right in the corner had serious doubts,

About which tea for two set to pick,

The one with a cat or the other with valentine hearts,

Francoise was somewhere near,

She thought ‘Pick out the one with a cat’,

Because as a caring ghost she was obliged to know,

The tea for two set would be a gift for the young lady’s niece,

Valentine hearts would have been a bad choice,

The young woman had no sweetheart, 

The young woman decisively frowned and took the tea cup with a cat,

The ghostly mission wasn’t completed,

This time she stood behind an old lady who was ready to buy horn-handled knives,

‘No, your friend has similar knives,

She has a look alike set,

Madam, don’t be a miser,

What about this French still life,

Or a gorgeous red velvet chair,

Honor your lifetime friendship’,

The old lady reluctantly opened her wallet,

It coughed up quite a few greasy francs.