Que tout le temps qui passe, ne se rattrape guère…

Paris, rue des Pyrenees

<br/ >
Smells of the city, dancing silhouettes, the raw color of the light and how it affects my sensation of reality. Thousands of variations of grey, and a bit of red sometimes. My sister joyfully walking in the street, an other taste of happiness.
Faces from my past and future, precious friendships with a level of understanding that grounds me throughout my journey.

The mirage of sharing slowly evaporates – was it always just an illusion?
A sad veil on my heart that wishes it hadn’t dreamed in the first place.
Nobody to blame, a diner alone.

<br/ >

One Comment