The world, lately, has been black and white;
with a touch of transparency,
in the shape of nude wings,
filled up with empty carafes.
Today, she chose to hide,
while he picked foolishness
over the childhood fairytale, over purity.
She, in reverse, cherished the Parisian sky
and the wrinkles as she smiled.
The true moment came their way eagerly, merrily.
Flooded into their ghostly robes;
into their lonely dawns.
The words failed her this morning,
left her existence unnoticed,
and suddenly she felt the fragrant
coolness of being hidden.