paris . . . quatre

doorways.

it's not a new idea
to say that
life is a
series
of doorways.

if i were
to show you
the doors
of all your
old apartments,
your parent's home...
the job you hated...
the lover you lost
they would
have a strong
significance
because,
i think,
we rarely linger
in doorways...
we pass through
or
walk on by.

sometimes
we linger
for a moment.

this day
in paris
was packed
with significance
because of
a series
of
doorways.

come on in.

. . . . .



we went
to where
my mother
lived
in paris,
just off
champs elysées...



we snuck in...



and into the
courtyard...



then inside

and up



up



up
the
old stairs



to the
very tip top
floor

we're home.


{her place
has
the doormat}

it wasn't
as nice
when
she lived there.
no fancy
red carpet...
not even a bathroom
{down the hall}
or kitchen
{hot plate}
she said a whole
family lived
across
the hall there...

but now
it's much
fancier...
too close
to
everything
to be left
for students.

then
down



down



down...

and
another doorway



and out.

. . . . .

later this
same evening
we went
to another
place
that
i hold dear
to my heart....
but that's
for
tomorrow.

à bientôt,
xo