Nightly I ask you
And your warm voice
Naked in the hot dark
Surrounds me

Listening softly

I smile
Smoke
Kiss

Two coffee cups
By the window

My morning is colored by you

sleepy talk

"I love your hands."




"They're yours, baby."

My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
Stand in your door 
When we meet inside 
Show me some more 
Show me some more 
Show me some more 

My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
Turn and stare 
Fix your hair 
Move upstairs 
Move upstairs 
Move upstairs 

My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
Free from disguise 
Gazing on a city under 
Television skies 
Television skies 
Television skies 

My eyes have seen you 
My eyes have seen you 
Eyes have seen you 
Let them photograph your soul 
Memorize your alleys 
On an endless roll 
Endless roll 

"I don't know the key to success, but the key to failure is trying to please everybody."

There must be something to this.

The way your hair comes down and makes you look older
How are you getting so handsome, my boy?

Pretty baby
Pretty baby

”There is something instinctive about the moment you choose to ‘take’ a photograph,” he once explained. ”It’s not the result of thought or reflection. The strength of the composition is always born of the instant of the decision. It reminds me of archery. There is the tension of the bow and the free flight of the arrow.”

 Edouard Boubat