I tucked those moments into the scrapbook of my mind, preserving them for safe-keeping. They were pressed carefully between the pages, which is what I had done with the single, pink rose you had given me the first time we met. A single rose is perhaps one of the most elegant gifts one can receive. There is abundance contained in the mysterious folds of her petals, in the tiny secrets she holds close, in the delicate sweetness of her scent, more poignant than dozens of blooms.
And so the memories were preserved. Those carefree spring days in Paris, the picnic on the Quai François Mitterrand, the hidden courtyard parks in the Marais, the Pont Bir Hakeim, the Galérie Vivienne, the steps and passages in Montmartre, where all paths lead to Sacré Cœur... In our first two weeks together, hand-in-hand we traversed the city.
You wanted to share it all with me., all the splendor of your beloved home. We slept so deeply each night, exhausted by days filled with walking and fresh air, nights filled with moments of unleashed desire.
Paris will never exist in my mind without you. I learned to see her through your eyes, to taste her through your kisses, to caress her with your hands...
The April theme for the 12.12 Project was Nostalgia. The first photo of this post was my submission for that theme.
Until next time...