I DREAM A DIFFERENT VIEW/ 2:35am & Other Stories

Paris- standing across from the lock bridge, along the Seine River

Outside my window lay asphalt, brownstone, and oversized carriages, juxtaposed with century-old trees that, confused by warmer-than-usual temperatures, bear buds in winter. 

The trees ought to know better. 

Though I suppose confusion is indiscriminate.  

I dream of a different view where cobblestone pathways line riverbanks and salt-washed rooftops produce an erotic skyline. Where a lock bridge echoes love, friendship, and tender moments. Red lipstick stains on coffee cups and paperbacks hanging out of knapsacks are as ubiquitous as baguettes and croissants. Where cornflower blue bicycles sport baskets filled with wildflowers, creating visual art. Where time crawls and breathtaking landscapes dismantle heartache. Sharp, inexplicable pain customized to the individual.

I dream of a different view where warmth is everlasting.