“Paris is My Lover” by Cristina M. R. Norcross

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Paris is My Lover

 

You are my Edith Piaf song –

slow and sweet.

Your curves like crescent moons sleeping.

I want to touch the River Seine

on the other side –

slick, like oil.

 

Taking flight,

your lodgers argue over scattered cracks

along the brick path,

imagining crumbs where only shadows of footsteps remain.

 

You take my hand

and lead me into the rose colored evening,

as if the day is chasing us away.

We are refugees.

I have no home,

but you – Paris

are my resting place,

my soft furnishings.

 

We nest together.

You flap your wings

in regal display –

a proud showing off of your pavement and edifices.

Even the grayest day

can leave me breathless

for your unselfconscious touch of café life –

an atmosphere of conversation and smoke.

 

Cristina M. R. Norcross

Copyright 2007

 

 

 

 

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