les choix

a bohemian woman sleeps....just beneath my skin
mostly silent
but there are clues that she exists
maybe sings
too loud
when people are around
i gravitate to items that have lived a life or two
fingerprints of old souls there resting beside mine
and they now outnumber the shiny things...under florescent lights
don't take away what i love
the bohemian woman...she smiles and dreams
of touching dali's eyes