Spiral rainbow


Paris ‘tait amour, amour est mort, Paris n’existe pas …
ghosts of a glamorous and glorious past
haunt the boulevards today
an oyster consumed for its reputation
and the empty shell thrown away
as zombies are cashing in
on the charm and the ambience
of priceless precious bygone days
filled with a lust for life in style
and now we are looking at the mere hollow relics
but we still can even now catch a vague glimpse
in our dreamy imagination
being carried away by a slight scent of that sweet perfume
yearning for the nostalgia of the perfect day