In Paris they ask the right questions: “Cognac, armagnac, or calvados?” And, “Why are your eyes so blue?” “Do you know how to get back home?” “Is it finally time to kiss you?” If the black hole in the center of the galaxy Is stoppering up a drainage pipe That leads into another universe – InContinue reading “In Paris they ask the right questions”
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I’m in Paris
There is rain and wind, and the light falls through the window just so. I feel like I’m in a Patrick Wolf song – which is a good place to be. That’s all for now.