pourquoi?

it is the nuances of the french, that has really made me fall in love.

kisses on both cheeks, either side. full love. women, women, men, men, men, women.

“pardon.”

the way they tear their bread, it’s poetry between their fingers and thumbs, momentum and reason building to the taste. a passionate portrayal of life lived for pleasure and love and
sa
tis
fac
tion
!

how they watched with intent as I tasted the cheese they fed me on the bread they tore with love: “now drink the wine! mix it together!”

“so…”

i loved it. i did, i did. i went to heaven for a second, each time, with rushes on my skin of pure exaltation!

i found it in the way his head turned when he heard the scratching wheels of a skateboard in the distance.

the way she taught me to roll my r, in the back of my throat, as we walked through the streets late at night.

“arrrrrête! la rrrrue!”

“yes! that’s it!”

it’s the singing sounds of “bonjour!” and “merci beaucoup!” the challenge of the language, and their patience with me.

but, really, it’s all the people that i met, now a superbly important part of my story.

i am
head
over
heels
obsessed,
addicted
and
unimaginably in love with france.

and i’ll tell you this a million times more! oh what a love affair we’ll have!

eating cheese and drinking wine after hours in the cellar of a restaurant in nice. with french boys. life, it’s pretty awesome.

pas de probleme.

today i walked down the cobble-stone streets of bordeaux, holding a baguette, smiling wickedly to myself.

i sure fooled them, i thought, leaving the boulangerie beaming from the french i spoke. and, i sure fooled myself, i thought as i slowly collected the pieces of my blueprint torn to shreds, the cobble-stone streets littered with it. maybe a bit of my heart, too. nowhere it belonged.

but that’s the thing of life, you know. you do. fate, hey. it’s a ridiculously experiential thing. give it to me in a little glass jar, watch me wring it from my skin. my soul. my lips and eyes and ears listening all day to french voices. words. exuberance.

you can’t wipe the smile from my face. i’m french for a week, it suits me just fine.

love letters

one day i’ll be dreaming in french. my thoughts so wholly contained, so wonderfully occupied [by words i don’t know just yet].

we’ll fall in love in french, under the eiffel tower and a blanket of stars. dizziness and loveliness wrapped in the smell of cut grass and croissants. wrapped in serenity. wrapped in whispers, dopey smiles and the silver glow of the moon.

and when i forget to try, those words will fill my mind, they’ll fill my heart, and so easily they’ll flow. you’ll see.

one day when i’m dreaming in french, i’ll be dreaming of you.