paris, france

The stone walls along the narrow cobblestone alleys have seen so much. Art, music, and good wine everywhere you turn. A subtle weariness of the way the things are, an allergy to stagnation but a reverence for tradition, set to the wafts of fresh bread in the morning. I left a piece of my heart at the bottom of an espresso cup.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s