sous le ciel de Paris

in the temple of my existence,
the ceiling is under Paris skies
with a mix of colors and noise
any place is a scene with just
as many spectacles, directed
and acted by the city dwellers
there is poetry, music, fine art,
choreography, and the experts,
and artisans of the full range
there are trees and plants, and
buildings, but also cars, and
birds and animals to play with
…in the temple of my existence
where the ceiling is Paris skies,
while the words are love's tools

πŸ˜‰

mille fois

universe

Say

one that I want

ain't stopping

hold on

salut

on repeat

thousand love songs