Graffiti in another language  

She spoke in a softer tone
then most,
Amber tendrils of
keratin kept in perfection.  
i always asked
how she was, and she,
the actor she played,
would always put on
that bright smile
and thank you
routine;
i guess thats
what hooked me.
It wasn't the plethora
of durex boxes that
polluted my floor
like silverfish;
it was just more
mist lost in
a summer breeze.
Just as fragile
as unrecognised genius  
with no temperament
of the artist;
Like graffiti
in another language,
I walked up past
this town in paris
and saw a memorial;  
i asked a local
parisian "Qui était
le bel esprit qui
a fait cela?" Who
looked back puzzled
and said "that
is merely graffiti."
and walked on.

i learnt all you can do
is enjoy whats happening,
take pictures and hope
that maybe that spectacle
will be there in the morning;

But chances are, they'll just
be painted over and replaced
with another masterpiece.