xoxo, nico

when i kicked my fiance out of the beacon street apartment we shared for two years miss christmas moved in. a year later she relocated to the lower east side and i stayed at her place after la la land didn’t last so she is the reason i’m wasn’t homeless in the freezing cold streets of new york city when i decided to run away yet again with wet feet. last year we wound up living a few blocks from each other in kings county and last night she called me at two thirty in the morning freaking out with a fever of one hundred three point eight. by the time i got to her place the mercury rose to one hundred four point three so i put her in the car that drove us to the hospital.

the mansions in newport rhode island are lined up in between a rock cliff and a winding bellevue avenue. high society imported italian marble and threw lavish parties to impress the vanderbilts and the astors among 200 other famous ornaments on an exclusive list. the scandal that a prince created when he divorced his wife and married a half his age mistress in the foyer of the family’s summer estate was gossip all over the titanic. the newly weds were returning from their honey moon in egypt and boarded the ship with first class tickets off the coast of ireland but only the pregnant widow got on a life boat before it split in two and sunk to the bed in the frigid north atlantic. his heart froze like an iceberg no one saw coming until it was in front of a telescope lens. ta ta for now maybe in another life we will meet again.

the last time i was stuck in the emergency room i got a ride there in an ambulance. miss christmas was there when the decision that marrying him in the foyer of the astor mansion was probably not a good one. i was going to keep the solitaire diamond tiffany set on a platinum ring as a token so i hid it at the bottom of a change purse full of quarters he used to flip in order to figure out if he was lucky. when he came back to collect the rest of his belongings i had already come to the conclusion i don’t deserve the present nor did i need a keepsake to remind me of something broken. this is old news borrowed from a history of blues.