Love Poem No.14

Say, let’s rent a studio near the heart of
Saint-Germain-des-Prés, a place where
we can feel the two we’ve never been.
I’ll cut my hair short and you can dress
Parisian as you please. We can brunch
with gods at Les Deux Magots followed
by sacred steps to the church to light
candles for those we fail but try to love.
 
We can then loiter hand in hand with
foreign sky on our faces until the lamps
of those fabled streets begin to burn.
At that point I say we turn and follow
the crumbs of this possible dream back
to that place for two where you and I can
sate our fallen flesh until we sleep and
are reborn as poems or birds or both.
 
deux-magots1
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1 Comment

  1. pastordt on January 12, 2014 at 11:07 pm

    Oh, such a lovely dream. And I sorta think birds are poems, of a sort, don’t you?

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