Paris

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I can’t stop thinking about Paris. 

About the melody of the sirens.

About the choir rehearsal echoing through the courtyard.

About the man I left there and will always love, even though he’s no longer living there and I’m a lesbian.

About tiny apartments on the top floor of the buildings.

About drawing nude people, about drawing clothed people nude, about drawing myself and other people nude.

About cheap wine in the Cité Universitaire.

About my open heart, slow internet, the big wide world, the big city I could walk across in a day.