One night in Paris.
Sleeping on a sunken-in couch after a bottle of red wine, chocolates and fizzy water.
Goodnight we say to one another as we part ways.
The shadows watching me sleep, but I can’t sleep here.
5 years without a word, rekindled by some kind of fate people don’t believe in.
The candles, the shoes, the spaces we left in between time.
Conversations warm and familiar as if anger never existed.