Halcyon

paris knows us

We haven't been yet,
but Paris already knows our intentions.
It lowers its voice after midnight,
dims the lamps just enough
to pretend it's not staring.
Careful. Why?
this city flirts back.
and oh honestly,
we look exactly like its type.

So—
is this where we pretend
we're not thinking the same thought?
I don't know the city yet,
but I know this look,
the one that says stay,
the one that says don't behave.

We could call it romance,
or a terrible idea.
Be honest, love,
you felt that too.
Because if Paris had rules,
it taught us how to bend them.

This is where the city exhales,
where the music turns lazy and low,
where I say things
I'd absolutely say again
a million, zillion times,
under your gaze.
If we get lost,
I hope it's beautifully.
We are far past good decisions
and devastatingly good at this.

Fade out?
Not in stunning Paris.
Morning can knock all it wants.
The city prefers us like this
two bodies learning the language
without words,
wandering streets
we haven't met,

But, look at us,
already,
recklessly,
deliciously
and insanely,
in love.