Our Man in Europe, dave Delacroix.....Pushkin-s Ghost.
*dedicato.... Angela S. and Sergei. From Russia with Love.
Do not despair Countessa. I-m wearing my Summer Suite of clothes. Yup! Matching white socks! No Biggie! Do U remember last year at Marienbad. I remember that pink, pal rose lace evening gown... U swirled when U walked, flightless, as if compounded in Time U became TIME itself!!!!... My glass of Champagne dissolved. I put my Panatella aside. My stud collar attire was never more relaxed beneath my tuxedo. Flower vases and Napoleon Penguins. At the ball. Stravinsky, Mozart. Vivaldi. ALL! But above ALL it is U that sears my memory. All is UN/conjured. No Self aggrandizement, No Selfies, No IN/utterance. A glance. A smile. An indivisible. A future ghost of my Spirit, within or without, I know not.
My dearest Countessa. I will see U perhaps on the terrace of the Palais Giardini. Excuse my late morning preoccupation. Honour dictates, but I WILL see U at noon . I have to fight a Duel.
c2018,davedelacroix,Piper Bar. Sciacca, Sicily.
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