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Thatwasnotveryravenofyou-1115277
Evyn%20august%202013

I can smell Paris on your skin. 


 


All frosted streetlamps and coffee.


The beer in the snowy garden and 


The mannequins in the windows


Applauding us as we slipped past, 


Cold and breathless.


We'll do it all again this Winter,


Alone in the Jardins with the frost on our fingers.


December is our month, and we'll live it


Loudly, 


Shamelessly, 


Together,


With the glass pyramid they dedicate to art


And that big steel tower they dedicate to love. 


Because I have never felt so warm as I did 


When I stood over that city 


With the snow as a blanket


And your hand in mine.


 


[an image tale of 'paris' by pamagotchi]

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