Won’t you stay ‘til the a.m.?
night-time is different in Paris
there are 83 trains running outside my flat every hour,
one summer day a train will bring me back to Barcelona
where we will drink cheap vodka on the beach
where you lost my sunglasses
i stopped wearing underwear,
and i don’t close the blinds anymore
daylight sneaks in after a long night
of counting stars
there’s always the promise of another sunrise
but i can’t remember January being this dark
my tea is turning cold in the window frame,
the sudoku is half-finished
we always find our way back to each other
when we have little time left
the broken-hearted heal in solitude
in the moonlight a lover exposes himself
he didn’t want me
just someone
i used to believe stars were our beloved
deceased,
and
my ribs were cages for birds
only to realise,
the stars died long before my grandma
and birds flew south for the winter
you were my Grace
life is a wonderful flow of moments
if we cherish it right
i get a little lost on the way
but at least the weather is on my side
the guy at the party believes
we’re meant to be
but we never happened
we all came out a little less clean
after the mess
there are things i need to say
that only you know
secrets from a life
from a long time ago
before we met
before we went
pull my body next to yours
count the lights with me
perhaps we can make it to 30
if we water our soil right
eventually, we will bloom
daytime in Paris is so different now
Bio:
Julie Stensland is an international MA Creative Writing student at UKC, originally from Norway. She started writing at a young age, but didn’t find the passion for poetry until her BA at Winchester. She’ll be featured in this year’s literary and arts magazine from the Paris School of Arts and Culture. Even though her to-be-read shelf is growing taller and taller every day, she still finds herself buying new books. She believes writing is therapeutic, and poetry is the words of our emotions.