Something Extra at Leopold

This was written at Leopold Brasserie in Antwerpen.

Crepes (A temporary title)

Money can purchase a scarf from Nice, not the bliss in my chest when I think back to my small dog.

Money did not buy the motor bike ride with Franchesco.

Maybe it's a means to things? A trail?

Do I care about wearing white everyday of the week in Rome? Absolutely not. It means I can purchase crimson lipstick and send a papered kiss home.

I cried for the loss of a black jacket, not for it's penny value -- It was my friend -- It took me to Tavern on The Green -- It kept the nip away on the plane to London -- It kept this girl company when no-one could.

Strained dollars got me the flight to Brussels, not the 1904 dated flat I am sojourning at now. That was connected kindness.

I cry, yell, and faint by laughter due to life's moments. A life that is supported by money, not fueled by it.