you are always an adventure. you sparkle and illuminate the world you are surrounded by. everyone adores you and wants to either meet you or see you again. it must be exhausting. the parisians are glamorous such as yourself. the pedestal you and your inhabitants stand upon is grand. i feel as if i am in a continuous dream while walking your streets and riding the metro. delightful food, delightful drinks, delightful art, delightful love. ah the love of paris, it dusts all visitors. everyone a little hazy and beautiful in some way or another. i cried and i laughed all in a matter of minutes. ah paris, when can i see you again? im sorry to ask and hound you. it’s just love i think. love, its always thinking never truly knowing as it is too dynamic to know as a concrete thing. that is how you are, you seem solid and present but yet grainy and distant as well. ah paris, send me your love to last me until i return. send me just a little.


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