Eclipsing the City of Light


Twice a year a Japanese tourist falls into shock 
when his train of thought collides with the thoroughbred 
 vision of the city of light. 
In the arrhythmic moments of readjusting his frame
 life's own bright pastiche smudge 
bleeds through a tourniquet of belief 
 and the city seen as Paris, 
in his mind, begins to smolder. 
 Paradise is pointillist: 
thought shortcuts perfectly
 circular islands of color,
 sound and shape till seamless, 
using distance to fill space.


 Your face eclipses mine,
 world dimmed to a glow. 
To a tourist we are kissing,
 to me you are haloed.

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