“Goin’ Out of My Head,” plays on my headphones.
“Mon amour, I really dig Lady Ella,” I say as I lean in for a kiss.
We board an iron bird, and wake in a city d’amour, morte, et révolution.
Our hands dance as we travel between la Bastille, les Catacombes, and Sac Re Cur.
I swallow my stained-glass heart as we gaze across a Parisian vista from sacred walls,
“J’taime,” I say as you walk away.