She is like a Paris night
Mauve dress in candle light
Ghosts bring whips of De Sade
Her smile like ballet on the Seines
Her tongue flickers from so much love
We speak of Baudelaire and bright paganism
High heels that have drawn blood
Champs Elysee bright like a new womb
Victor Hugo walks the West Bank
Dali is in her eyes of corsets
Renoir sits at our table quiet and subdued
Père Lachaise under the moonlight
She goes back to her mausoleum
I walk the fauve streets of dawn
Her words like the fog of a lost generation
She spoke of how she kissed Napoleon
She kissed me with her pale ice lips
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
She is like a Paris nightMauve dress in candle lightGhosts bring whips of De Sade Her smile like ballet on the Seines A nice lovely write.