Paris
A story of first love.
By
Jude kyrie*

It’s like I am a guitar and the fingers
of lovers are strumming the strings
Spinning my emotions
Commanding me to stay
She said

We walked the busy streets of Paris
Too full of lovers overflowing in spring
To find us a little place
In a Paris with no space

Its fingers are making me sing love songs
I am so in love with you
So in love she sighed

We walked from room to room
seeking pure light from the north
to touch her beauty as I painted her

I feel like it is you inside me
Your fingers playing my heart
Allowing it to beat and flow blood
Keeping it safe and loved she said*

I entered her through
the door of her heart
That she left open
Only for me.
In Paris that
far away springtime.
And found my home
Where I would always stay