Back In Paris

I wake up under the crook of your arm, and touch your skin, warm and slippery, to make sure it's you. That we are really back in each other's arm's and not separated by 22,000 kilometres of ocean.

I leave your body warm under our nest of covers, and race out into the cold winters morning to see if this is really the same old Paris I used to know. Used to love and hate by turns.

The cold stings my hands and face. I open my painted red lips to suck in the air and take a bite of Paris. TODAY I WANT TO EAT PARIS. A lone rider zooms past me in a tangle of scarfs and coats. He squints into the cold rush of air and scowls into the soft blue light of day break.

Buildings recede into the fog and tiny bridges curve over into the streets. Seeking refuge from the cold I step into a book shop. The shop assistant steps on my toe as she hurries past me to go about her morning chores. She spits out a stream of dialogue. Something about not being ready to open, but I can stay. I ignore her and her attitude and buy a book.

Paris is buzzing with music from my Ipod, and I run all the way home and dive into the arms of my lover. He yawns like a cat as he pulls me back under the covers. He wats me to kiss the tip of his cock while he brings himself to orgasm. He watches my ruby red lips linger, breathing in his scent before swallowing him whole. I indulge him with my kisses before leaving again.

It's now afternoon, AND I WANT TO SEE MORE, I WANT TASTE MORE, I WANT FEEL MORE of this city. I don't hate it today.I'm sucking the marrow from it. Oblivious to the past. To memories. Yes they're still all there, but today is not about that. Today is about me and my lover.