All was silent in my room when I returned

I had been shoplifting again

Which is an art

And I am Michelangelo

I only steal high grade goods

A handbag here a dress there

Underwear is so easy to steal

As long as you have a generous coat

I look from my window at the neon streets

Which are beginning to empty as the night draws near

In an hour only the beggars will remain in place

The apartment where I live is also stolen

I am living under a false name

Julie Galtier is alive and well

Although she drowned in the Amazon last year

I answer all her correspondence

And when we receive visitors I am Pauline her very close friend

Julie is out of the country and will return soon is my usual lie

Even great artists make mistakes

But they are usually hidden well

I suppose that I have been lucky

But then again I resemble Julie

We could have been sisters or so people used to day

And for the present that is good enough for me

When the bridge tightens then I will move on

And like a cuckoo will nest in another city

Where I will dream of my thieving friend

Who has never left these shores