One Night in Paris, the Longing that Refused to Fade & the Heartache that Followed (Poem)

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One Night in Paris, the Longing that Refused to Fade & the Heartache that Followed

One night in Paris—
where lamplight trembled on wet stone
and the city held its breath for no one.
We walked as though time were negotiable,
as though dawn might forget its duty.

Smoke rose between us,
a fragile architecture of pauses and glances,
each breath saying what words dared not.
Your silence leaned into mine,
and in that narrow space, hope learned restraint.

The night passed, as nights always do,
leaving behind no witnesses but memory.
Yet longing lingered—
not loud, not desperate,
but precise, like a name unsaid.

Days later, it returned without asking:
in café windows, in passing shadows,
in the way Paris teaches absence to endure.
The heartache followed quietly,
faithful as a second skin.

For some nights do not end when morning comes;
they settle into us,
unchanged by distance or reason,
and remain—
unwilling, and unable, to fade.