Paris
We flew to Paris.
Disembarking the airplane someone had thrown up the pasta all over the window.
I had the chicken.
We checked into our hotel and
walked the streets which seemed to me the same
streets repeating themselves like fractals.
We saw a woman made of gold on the top of a building and
I tried to catch her eye using only my own eyes.
It didn’t work.
At the Eiffel Tower,
at the Louvre,
at the Arc de Triomphe;
the lines were as impressive as the monuments
and now I wish I had taken pictures of the lines.