John had brown black eyes that looked like they belonged on one of
the small toys you get on a keychain that’s an animal but you can’t quite pin point what kind.
I took no time to say “You have big eyes” which in my mind warranted
staring into them most of the night.
His hair was a brown blunt cut which was awkward and he knew it, hiding it in a beanie and when he took it off he’d tousle it and then tuck it behind his ears.
Last summer I was in Paris. My friend and I had a night we’ll never forget.
The bar in Pigalle
had dark blue walls dotted with small silver sequins.
For a second it made me feel I was at the planetarium but
then I remembered we were at a bar.
Jess and I were the only ones in there, apart from the bartender-
a Mr.Tumnus looking geezer, who maintained a strict:
“No! No drinks aohht-seed!”
policy with us, which was especially jarring considering it was a cruel 34c.
We’re on a cobbled, narrow street in the 6th arrondissement, and either he’s trying to race me, or lose me.
In any case, he looks like a fucking show off.
He finally clocks I’m not beside him and turns around, only to locate me four feet behind, wedged between a pram and a man with a walking stick.