I see it in your eyes, he said,
suspiciously, I glanced –
perhaps a piece of my soul slipped out?

In my head, under the Eiffel tower
Parisian lights polluted the Seine river
reflecting the lovers here before;

blinding our histories – fresh air accosted
every sense, the limited space between our bodies
grew hope, love fragrant in the night air.

-L.J. Lenehan

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