France, Adventure No. 17

[Le Chesnay, France.]

You swear it's not the wine.
"It's just that I feel so alive
just now. This moment."

There's something about this place
that could make a girl cry
And can make you feel incurably studious
at 4 in the afternoon
When the campfire-y smells of
dinners being made
ignite in the air.

Then suddenly the street becomes
a hallowed place:
A church you come to light candles in,
as if small flames licking the dim, incensed air
are the only messages that God understands.

Leaves begin to fall in slow-motion
and you are amazed at the chill in the air
and the quick puffs of breath
that drift from your lips.
Because your heart has not felt warmer
since that one night all those years ago
when you discovered that you weren't infinite.
And that not being infinite
is kind of all right.

France, Adventure No. 12

Well, France has thus far welcomed me with open arms! I have simply fallen in love with the architecture, the fashion, the food and the overall feeling of this beautiful country.

While Paris is probably one of my favorite places ever, Versailles (where I'm living) has its own charm and definitive vibe. From the extravagance of the Chateau de Versailles to the more organic feel of the Place du Marché at Notre-Dame, this city has something to offer every kind of tourist, or even temporary citizen.



My favorite part just may be the boulangeries and patisseries that stand at attention on nearly every street corner, tempting me with their delightful delicacies. Glistening tarte aux pommes, savory quiche lorraines and buttery croissants, to name just a few.
Every morning the lines are out the door as the locals hustle out laden with baguettes and delicate pastries wrapped in decorative tissue paper or in small cardboard boxes.



I guess all I'm saying is that if I come home with about 20 extra pounds on me...don't be surprised.

If We Become Friends, I'm Probably Going to Start Writing Poetry About You..

There are ways you have that you don't even know about.

Sudden movement stirs me awake and I blink
alive to a T.V.-lighted world.

We've matched up, like something you'd seen
in a commercial one time: Pleasing and artificial.

Because looking at me isn't really seeing me.

I want to breathe life into you,
so I press my lips down on your lips, like a lifeguard,
and pretend I've just pulled you from the waves.
I taste the salty and breathe a little more of my
air into your lungs.

You do not stir.

You are barely alive and even my oxygen
cannot revive your sleeping heart.