A gleam over Paris


Neither day nor Night
Enjoying cheap white wine and the summer breeze.
The birds singing a sweet melody to the beat of our bubbles.
It is when the grass under our feet began to go cold, then was the time to leave.
Walk down the empty streets. We encounter the smell of warm crusty bread on a corner.
No need to talk, it has all already been said.

But we don’t go home, we stop in a café to start a day that hasn’t yet ended.


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