she’ll never read this…

remember the Seine…taking that covered boat through Paris with all those people snapping pictures…protected from February’s rains…protected…

no wine was drunk…coffee after coffee after coffee…maybe that was our problem…no chances taken…nothing foolish…God i want foolishness…

Paris should not’ve been clean…nor we…it does not suit lovers…nor poets…grime is needed…what romance is in perfection…

to go back to Paris now…without you…a clown uncleansed…taking risks…making love in cemeteries…breaking glasses in bars with the salt of the earth…prophets…con-men…whores and thieves…to breath again…again…

remember the Seine…taking that covered boat through Paris with all those people snapping pictures…protected from February’s rains…protected…

neither do i…

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