hyenahell

listening to leonard cohen. "take this waltz". over and over again. and thinking of mel. and jules. and dancing in my head. all three of us. somewhere like venice. we three. in the streets. and they're empty except for us. buildings crumbling. wet and cold this time of year. canals black and poisonous. but. lovely. you know. in that poetic, tragic way that all the damned goths and romantics have made so cliche. that kind of way. it's the most beautiful thing i can imagine. and i'm crying. because i would give anything. anything. for that. just for a minute.