Paris whispers, I wave, and she cries,
Listening to sounds of her calling us back
Waves of leaving never needing to say goodbye
A last smile before into the oceans crept,
Like waters blanketing tears that she wept
Rushing forth but not without a trace,
With you there, I first saw your beautiful face,
Keeping in mind that when I forget
That I, long ago, Paris is where
I first fell in love with you there.
Paris still whispers, for we were there.