it was paris and it was 1948.

i'm pretty sure it was 1948.
i had been walking, my shoes were heavy
and wet. my head too, my eyes. drinking too much.
it rained, then it stopped, rained again.
i heard a church bell not far off.
i was drunk and hungry for food or love.
thoroughly soaked, i walked bare-headed
in the parisian rain. it seemed a writerly
thing to do. plus yeah, drunk.
i was halfway across the courtyard at
the backside of the Louvre when i
saw her. she was standing outside of a closed
cafe, waiting out the rain, and wearing one of
those fancy dresses that was considered high
fashion at the time - Dior, i think- with a
little ruffle puff where the ass should be,
giving the young woman a sort of peacockish
but elegant air.
"dibs," i whispered noiselessly to no one
as i shuffled passed.

"diiiiiiiiiiiiibs."