Bonne Nuit, Cherie

I want all Françoise Hardy records.

I want to forget

about sustenance, 

as I will be unable to take my petty, human ears 

off the sounds of a goddess.

 

I want to drown in the familiar tune

of a hot air balloon wearily floating

through the sky.

 

I want to spontaneously combust

on a ferris wheel that plays the sound of a long-forgotten

siren

again and again.

 

I want the “singing sorceress”

(as they say)

to wake me up with the

airiest enunciation of

“good morning”.

 

I want the “singing sorceress”

to whisper the 

airiest enunciation

of “goodnight”

in my ear

as we bury ourselves in bed. 

 

I want the wide smile of 

a once young

and gorgeous 

yeh yeh girl to beam down

upon me

and only me. 

 

and all this, 

all this

will be done with your hand in mine.