The Parisian Cafe

Photo by Timea Kadar on Pexels.com

In the city of lights, the city of love, there I was
without them both idly observing passersby
outside a café one summer evening
pacing back and forth, stealing covert glances,
hoping for one to catch my eye.

Was someone out there to hold onto
or had each moment longed for escaped?

Heartbroken and alone,
the emptiness needed a fill.
In need of a drink combined with the heat
stroked the urge
to forget why I was there.

In a daze walking into that dark café,
it appeared those glances weren’t wasted.
A pair of hands slowly reached for mine
pulling me into the intimacy of the night.

Before I knew it, we were swept away
and headed back to his place.

Love bites marked a moment not soon forgotten,
a moment not to be hidden.
The marks of a lustful moment,
wantonness craved,
and a need to escape.

I was not my usual self.
I’m not always carefree.
I blame the drink and the city,
for its toxicity drowned me.

*A revision of the original poem from June 2020.

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