One day she’ll eventually get it
That this was the whole birthday gift
In a Paris cafe to meet with her
And share this type of pleasure
Which is, and is not, an adventure
Since it cannot decide between sin
And the last souvenir it’ll let in
Life, life in a word and then none
Now I run, I board and then I’m gone
One day she’ll eventually get it
That she was never truly alone
Angling for the line of best fit.
Image credit : Christy Turlington
