I stand outside
the apartment
in the prestigious
6th Arrondissment
Haussmann wet
dream that drips
its ejaculatory fluid
all over my boots
as my index finger
extends to a buzzer
with the moniker
of R Rosenberg
the miniature item
who asked if he
could paint me
“You are so tall!”
he coo cooed
his eyes scanning
my breasts in the
minutest detail
“No.”
I replied
“You are short.
Your mamma
didn’t tell you?”
He shrugged
“She loved me,
why spoil things?”
He replied
I pressed the name
which chimed out
Beethoven’s 5th
then buzzed loudly
as the door unlocked
I pushed and entered
The miniature human
stood in rapt attention
at the foot of the stairs
like Poirot on speed
his heels together
and actually bowed
“Entre Mademoiselle.”
I looked over his head-
which wasn’t too hard
and scoped the place
while he started to
prattle on about his
deep joy at my arrival
“What’s the deal?”
I asked
“20k Euros-
for a nude.”
He replied
My eyes went down
a few steps to reach
his level as my brain
was clicking like diodes
in a deep dark cavern
“Your eyes are a colour
I have never seen before.”
He enthused
“Well,”
I said
“They go with my head.”
I didn’t think he could see
so far without binoculars
“Are the terms agreed?”
He asked tremulously
To alleviate the misery
I nodded attempting
a smile from memory
but it never happened
I guess a derailment
occurred on the line
“Enchante.”
he replied.
Marlovian 