Lui et Elle

They met outside the Gare du Nord
And kissed as the French manner commanded
-- in the air, twice, one for each cheek --
As reserved and proper as two friends ever were
The sombre grey sky watched from above and was proud of them,
Lui et Elle

Their taxi smelled of old cigar smoke
And as it raced them across the Seine
They sat slightly apart, staring ahead
Their hands straining to touch, but held in check
As the driver grumbled about the bone-aching chill,
Lui et Elle

Ensconced within the hotel in separate rooms
They met in his and drew the curtains closed
At last their proper armour became proper amour
And the heat of their passion, strong enough to start a Revolution
Chased the Parisian winter chill back across the Seine
Lui et Elle

Spent, entangled in sweaty sheets in a dark hotel
She rose first and dressed with a lady's decorum
She left the room, but kept their deep fulfilling love
And they met again at Reception to return their keys
As distant and removed as any two business colleagues
Lui et Elle


The End

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