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Irene J Mar 6
Under the Parisian night,
I dream,
I met you.
Your cold eyes looked at me judging me,
but your heart tells me you want me here.
I didn't walk away,
I stay as you said.

We walked around the city of light,
we got lost in the light.
you didn't know where we were going,
because you were too busy talking about love.
It blinded us.

You held my hand all night,
but as the night about to end,
you whispered you love me,
but I whisper,
I have loved you for ten years.

And under the Parisian night,
you kiss me.
When I open my eyes,
I still can see you standing next to me,
but that was it.

Under the Parisian night,
it only happens in my dream.
this was inspired by the story I'm writing, this was sitting on my draft far too long.
sheri Sep 2018
looking as lovely,
as a blossom
in the midst of Spring.

i see no haste
you are not of
an amiable ambience.

your eyes gaze and
speak of a million lies
you've heard
yet withheld.

fastened onto a
seat of comfort;
yet so tense
and susceptible.
Based on Juan Luna's painting of "Parisian Life."

— The End —