Zara

Can you love me, do you think you dare, the way I used to be, look at me, I breathe, is it my grey hair, that makes you dream, Paris on glossy evenings, would you care, Pastis and nights spent free, with someone's being, clink yellow glasses with her, still fresh at fifty three, blowing like steam, your eyes flared, would you let out a scream, all those might have beens, is that fair, for a life of ease you my blonde flaneur?