by dion diom manias
that’s all folks
“Tell me about love, Kiki, the way you love it :
A little naïve, quite naughty, always bohemian,
And that you shared at the cabaret,
From the gals of La Rochelle to the gals of Camaret,
The warm love, Kiki, by icy weather,
When the northwester wind caressed Montparnasse,
The winter days when we didn’t see the light.
Tell me about love, Kiki, tell me about love.”
Kiki lived and died a singer, and it is fitting that the most enduring image of her is one that shows her as she truly was;
an instrument of both music and art.
“I have a lover who loves me, whom I love, we will be happy. Everything is fine.”
The words of a junkie. Kiki plunged back into narcotics and Dédé eventually resigned himself to being unable to share a life with the woman he loved.
Yet he never abandoned her and remained her companion and protector until the end.
