Your toes against me moved,your "best feet."    You were told.Morning herald camealong wearing shades.My window open all night.Heels on the cobblestone streetand I can't help but looking.Down to the plaza and someonedrinking coffee, unfolding a bicycle.Your best feet against me moved.Heels on the cobblestone streets.Not finishing upstairs,walking alone with frites.If you weren't the only one … Continue reading Antwerping