french-cat-blues:

Leaning into his doorframe like a lazy god, smiling to himself as the crowd of Raginiron-by-numbers men parts like the red sea for a young dark-haired fashionistaeater a creature of slender and long lines and lickspittlelips one puppydog eye, one serpent wink a fiver and a wad of sprung obscenity – ecstasy in the right hands, ecstasy in the wrong hands. Unreliable fella,

bad speller,

In love with his girlfriends brother but hasn’t the heart or balls to tell her.

Honour? in the right light

Grace? Like a paperplane in flight

Features? Looks sly, sculpted, high, and bright

What can he teach us? How to run, rim and kite

Loves: suits torn and tight

Loathes: having to end every night with a fight

Hair? Immaculate…

– Pete Doherty, Frowns and Pouts in Paris and London