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The waitress smiles a little too much but we don't care, our little glass lung of Bordeaux dips away above slatish cobbles. A Gauloises whips ash from a smouldering hand into the corner table fragment. Systems of traffic evaporate. A massive shadow folds above the grifters. The river laps at knees of bread, while empty bottles browse the blackness for their corks. Beside cathedrals a dusted dusk glows & we follow it back to the hotel. It's a little room, our neighbors make love, & the courtyard roars with high orange; I think towards you when sheets of clouds betray a skimmed moon, & we pull sleep around us. The river tongue falls & sleek stones gather to a new language.
0
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 9:35 AM UTC
Paris, September
The waitress smiles a little too much but we don't care, our little glass lung of Bordeaux dips away above slatish cobbles. A Gauloises whips ash from a smouldering hand into the corner table fragment. Systems of traffic evaporate. A massive shadow folds above the grifters. The river laps at knees of bread, while empty bottles browse the blackness for their corks. Beside cathedrals a dusted dusk glows & we follow it back to the hotel. It's a little room, our neighbors make love, & the courtyard roars with high orange; I think towards you when sheets of clouds betray a skimmed moon, & we pull sleep around us. The river tongue falls & sleek stones gather to a new language.
EvanS
Written by
46/M/DC
Sep 25, 2019
Sep 25, 2019 at 9:35 AM UTC
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