Painting Paris

Fingers flecked and caked
with specks of rose-coloured paint
dance across the brushes
your father made.

Will you paint Paris
in shades of crimson and green
like the home you left behind?
Don't.
Stop and see Paris
past the surface and the gleam
there is beauty there to find.

She weeps within her bones
tired and old
for someone to see her again.
She's a lover alone
her body long sold
hoping to feel young again.

I know the Paris of your dreams
was less lonely
I know you ask
"If only there was gold to all that gleams...
...if only."

But there is beauty still
believe.
It hides within the seams
in the cracks and in-between.

Feel her breathe.
Close your eyes, Ari.
In.
Out.
Feel the stones beneath your feet.
Feel ol' Paris without
the veneer and vanity.

Feel her heart beat,
lonely and kind.
Now open your eyes, Ari
and paint what you see.

Leave the rest behind.

Author's Note

Pour Arabelle, qui sera toujours dans mon cœur. J'espère que vos rêves deviennent réalité.

Reviews

[BillTemple]

This is a wonderful piece. I love your use of descriptive phrases. You have a wonderful way with words. Great piece

[Knightingale]

As always, I appreciate you taking the time to look at my work.

[Southern Cross]

You are so forgiving. I wish I wished him well in my heart as you do her. This piece is so romantic and offers so much hope. The glass for you always seems more than 1/2 full and that is a wonderful way to be.