That Green Dress

A warm humid evening in Paris with you.
A light breeze moves the silhouette of your dress. That beautiful green dress that you bought today morning from some tiny unspeakable boutique store snuggled in some back alley of Paris. How you wore the dress and twirled around to show me how beautiful it looks. How you smiled and how your eyes twinkled with love.
Music filters through from far away. All the while you are tugging my hand ever so lightly. Pressing closer to whisper something probably completely useless. A mundane fact, a funny urban myth, a tiny kiss.
I taste Marlboro cigarettes and the last cup of coffee from the tiny coffee shop next to the Seine.

We sat on the soft grass peering upwards and I stole a kiss. The twinkle of the flashes on the tour de Eiffel lit your face in strobes of Harry potterian magic. I pulled you closer crumpling that green dress.
Life for that moment seemed to go on forever. A never-ending eternal moment of pure lust, eternal love, unending desire….

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