In Paris

Rue Cler street

It’s raining,

Midnight’s are moonshine and absolute fragile

Soaked in ode ballads and subtle amour.  

Empty streets are suave alongside blues orchestra and wet rail station,     

Painted with discerning romance and infinite symphonies,

Alchohols with felicitous poetry.

The lights and the sunshine

Mortal yet naive

No one dies in paris.

Empathy poetry and colors in their beautiful lifespan.

Paris and it’s midnights  

Silence and it’s rythms

Rain and it’s fragrance

Sometimes you become the rain i am getting wet under to

au revoir