Faux Pas

I would walk with you
Again along the Seine
With its surprise of palm trees
And crush of Saturday revelers,
The thumping bass of huge speakers
Above us shouting out music
Unromantic and unexpected,
Nothing like the bright accordions
Of subway tunnels and street corners
That reminded you this is Paris.

I would hold your hand again
As we slipped under each bridge
Sometimes cringing at the smells
And pondering how you’d escape
If you tumbled into the murky water.
I would hum that tune again
That lodged itself into my ears
Each time we neared the river.
“Here’s to the ones who dream,
Foolish as they may seem,
Here’s to the hearts that ache,
Here’s to the mess we make.”

I would make all the messes again,
My fit over a tandem bike,
Our spat that spoiled the final act
Of that gorgeous ballet,
Getting locked out without code
Or without key or working phone.
I would walk with you
Again along the Seine,
Unromantic and unexpected,
Perfectly imperfect.