YD6-48(SHEe) A French Girl, a Manhattan Studio, and Whispering Secrets
I scrutinize Francine’s thoughtful eyes as she lies beside me. Sunlight creeps into the courtyard and stroking the carpet out of the shadows to green lawns in the backyard. Softening her face’s edges with her morning’s make-up. In a slinky slip from beneath the duvet she rises, her silhouette crossing the panoramic window, circling the double bed. I lay still, lending an ear, to her body’s…









