Abela
doesn't like
Schopenhauer
she finds him
depressing

why read him?
she asks me

I like him
he gives me
another
perspective
of the world

but why him?
who told you
about him?

some old dame
I once ******
talked of him

might have guessed
Abela said
who was she?

just a friend
I once had
I tell her

she's quiet
sips white wine
looks around
the street scene
around us
sitting in
the café

she's musing
quite deeply
as dame's do
of other
dames I’ve had

was she good?
she asks me

an ex-nun
I reply

an ex-nun?
she echoes

as a girl
not right now
I tell her

she's silent
sips her wine

Dubrovnik
has its charm

I sip beer
smoke my smoke
read my book
of old man
Schopenhauer

Abela
purred last night
like a cat
after ***
I like that.