Au Revoir, Paris.

We’re old flames now. However much we try, that flame will never be rekindled.

I’ll put my suitcase on the train and leave and  you won’t even notice that I’m gone.

I’ll move on, find new streets to stroll in, new cafes to linger over one last coffee. But every now and then I’ll turn a corner on a quiet street in  some other town and I’ll be transported back to those days.

Sure, I’ll visit you again, but disorientated by memory, your streets will seem smaller, your cafés more shabby and your metro more tightly packed with tourists.

Au Revoir Paris, I’ll visit you again some day but it will never be the same.

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