17 July 2012
To live, breathe and take in another atmosphere apart from your own.
To have and to take it with both hands for being alone.
The saxophone calls in the midnight hours.
Swaying like the breeze in the summer flowers.
The smoke from the cigarette end rises.
To be in Paris and the 20s - the ultimate prizes.
To want and belong to a time.
Where you're born to late for whatever in the past is mine.
Mon Amour Pour Paris • Opuss № I