european dreamin’

When you really know a foreign language, you think in it. Idioms, turns of phrase, mannerisms. Words make sentences, but now they’re ideas. New ways of thinking. You learn to pout and please in a gesture. Doors slide open, as spring licks your manicured toes. Ruffles now become you; what the hell, so does a coral flower in your hair–and it has never been your color. You’ve got moves now, that went dormant. Someone found them, blew off the slump, revealing a bare shoulder, and a grin. Flirt.
I know spanglish, but the closest I come to thinking it is pondering those Latina gold bangles.

Last night I dreamed European. I awoke; had a cafe o lait, and wore open-toed heels to the dog park. Crazy? No, just a new way of thinking. And coral is so my color.



  1. Dahlin'… if you are so in need of a foreign getaway, but lacking in funds/motivation, why not hop a plane with us on April 21 to la Nouvelle Orleans… it's Jazz Fest and tickets from LaGuardia are $244 non-stop on US Air. Everyone knows N'awlins is like Europe or the Caribbean (is that two r's or two b's? I can never remember!) only much, much closer.

    …And you can bear your shoulders and your little belly as it's already 85 degrees.

    Laissez le bon temps roule ma cherie, mais non?

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