I sat on the steps , in front of the Sacre Coeur. And as I watched Paris I knew that we had already created our own memories. Snap shots, images we would replay for years to come.
In the grey moonlit room, shaded like a black and white film, gentle kisses down my back, so ethereal I could scarcely believe how urgent they made me feel.
Drinking cold milk and eating chocolate biscuits as we sat on the floor at the end of the bed, like children.
Before he left that morning I slipped from the bed to kiss him for the last time. My sleepy nakedness against his dressed and ready to leave awkwardness. And then he was gone.
And after that I watched all of Paris and her skies and I felt new.
