Poem for Paris in November

dark eiffel tower

violet air. ce soir.

music plays in Paris.

and the worst elements of us

whisper.

and the best, they leave here, they drift,

then, exit;

from a summit, a harmony, a chorus. from montmartre.

silence settles on Paris.

midnight settles.

i’d –

i’d dry your blood if i could.

please. ce soir.

the air is violet. dormez bien, chéri.

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