Her eyelashes remind me of wisps on peacock feathers
She looks like whiskey and cigarette smoke formed into flesh
She probably tastes like dark chocolate infused with chilies
Black dress
Cut above the knee
Black boots
with the forlorn buckle across the ankle
She holds that guitar like she sleeps with it
Sips red wine when she’s not crooning French into the microphone
She bows her head as she sways backandforth on the stage, dancing with that guitar
Her long coffeesweet hair drapes over her breasts
As her naked knees catch my eyes and wink
I want to drink her in a smoke-choked coffeehouse
On an obscure street in the Quartier Latin
She’s thirty feet away
It’s a mile
So I sit back and watch
And wonder why I want to cry
Author notes
This was written when I went to a Keren Ann concert. She's absolutely amazing.
Written June 20th, 2006
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