In Paris, alone, five stories’ high, naked and taut, she perched like a still life gargoyle come to life.

From across the street, behind a curtain, I watched her.

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In the shadows behind her a homicidal love nest of tossed bed sheets, knotted promises and abandoned clothing.

The spoils of a front line, where she the victor had prowled like a predator and won.

She swung from the rail of black wrought iron, a gothic mistress cloaked in night and cocked her head off centre, to survey the unsuspecting street walkers of the Marais. five balconies below.

Come to the edge, Life said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, Life said.
They came. It pushed them…
And they flew.”

― Guilliame Apollinaire French Poet

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Hidden, with my face caressed behind my silk curtain, I watched.

A finger of smoke drifted from her balcony, dragging me forward. I stepped forward from the darkness.

I could have stepped back, but I didn’t.

I was in Paris with my now ex husband and my darling daughter, both were asleep as I stepped out onto that balcony. 

I needed to stay.

In Paris alone on my balcony I watched her.

I could say my feet led me forward, but it was my fear.

The naked woman in Paris, her eyes unguarded, welcomed me and she waved.

I waved back.

The naked woman on the balcony unearthed me-parts I had lost.  Me-parts that in trying to conform had been broken.

I needed to wake up and reclaim myself, I needed some time to be disheveled, naked and alone.


Her smile licked across her face, her arms purred into a stretch above her head and with them lifted still, hands clasped together, she padded back to her bed and sunk beneath the folds of pillows and sheets.

Above the street, an amber light and ocean darkness slipped from her room and following her lead, I too turned and sunk deep into bed.

The naked woman on her Paris balcony undid me – glorious, naked and real – a woman unfurnished and open to her own freedom.

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The gentle roll of my now ex-husband’s snore and the vulnerable trust of my daughter’s love slept.

I knew I may no longer stay in my marriage.

It’s a true thing, once you have tasted the freedom of a truth, you can no longer pretend or accept it doesn’t exist.

Timing is everything when you have plans to reclaim yourself and exhausted like the naked woman in her room, I fell asleep.

My life was about to change again and I needed rest to be ready.

DCF 1.0
DCF 1.0

The woman who follows the crowd will usually go no further than the crowd. The woman who walks alone is likely to find herself in places no one has ever been before- ALBERT EINSTEIN



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