We'll Always Have Paris

We’ll Always Have Paris
To Fran, six months on

We’ll always have Paris
She said
Shrugging her way
With Bacall’s wistful smile
Past an empty mussel shell
From her favorite moules et frittes
At La Petite Pèrigourdine

We were as full of ourselves
As we were full of moules and entrecote
With nothing but our future
To look forward to

No matter that future
We would always have Paris
A recurrent dream of joy
To wake us in the middle of the night
And then gently rock us back to sleep
Spiraled in each others arms
As if around a Caduceus of love

Today, there were no moules frittes
At La Petite Pèrigourdine
And no entrecote
And I still have Paris
But she is gone
Except for our dreams of joy