l’été indien


I think I need to invent a new alphabet for writing to you
as if you’re drawn for it. And I think the stars must be
the orator that reads to you, when you gonna want to be
absorbed in that fancy-schmancy literature, well defined in
a lullaby sound, just for being dragged in those sweet dreams
grouped in familiar aromas with those kinds of emotions… —
of the morning, — with the top note, naughty…
of the daytime, — with the heart note, a privy gently solace…
of the evening, — with the base note, the irresistible love…
and in-between, — all notes combined and included in each
and any day, for being similarly as a cosmopolitan day from
an Indian summer hugged smoothly by winter’s tenderness
©ᵏᴼᵏᴼ ↭ un p’tit je ne sais quoi

Charles Pasi │ Joe Dassin

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