The jazz of the 90's booming through my window. I love jazz. Jazz got under you, in you, worked you up, and whispered promises in the dark. Rap cuts to the chase. It picks up where jazz left off.
Jazz is to rap what dreams are to reflections.
I stand between. My reflection is a dream. This is a dream. Sometimes I get too drunk to write. Paris stinks of blood and wine, vampires and poets.