Paris

Paris...

It speaks to me through dreams, though stars. My muse, my never ending love for you is as clear as a night sky in July. How I love thee...yet the question beckons...why? Though I've never seen you with my own eyes, I've watched you from afar, through pictures and conversation with individuals that have felt your presence. I've tasted you on occassion, when the time is just right. Your voice reverberates in my head like a forlorn love song. What a love story we share huh? How I love the way you walk, red lipstick and velvet skirt; your lips inviting, subtle of course, as nothing you do is ever forced. It is the eyes of you that strike me best; light-filled eyes, full of passion and romance.

I know you are upset...I know I've let you down. No visits or roses, just plans and empty promises. Daydreams and nights longing, for your touch, forever mourning. Inexplicable forces have kept us apart, yet we hope that someday we'll see each other eye to eye. I'd like to tell you I'll bring roses, but that would be undeserving of you. You, who the world admires and loves, deserves so much more... Perhaps a kiss and a bon jour mademoiselle would be enough; to have you in my arms and softly tell you je t'aime ma cherie...because I've always loved you...and I always will.