Wednesday, August 12, 2009

April 16, 2009

It must have been late
when I told you over
a hot coffee and the
rolling cobblestones of the
Rue de la Huchette
that the gargoyles of
Notre Dame no longer scare me.

I know because if it
had been early in the day
when the the tourists were
still riding the cathedral
like a rollercoaster, you would
have laughed, put your
shell-like hand on my shoulder,
and told me the gargoyles
aren't just stone in this town.

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