Lost in the blur of red
Thin scarlet threads
Among so many more
Marseilles, Positano, Paris
'No off the job'
She said
She could tell
They would never
Go back to what they were
A hidden past
She did not know
He never told her
Breaking from a coma
Distraught murmurs in the dark
And he finally does
He called her the wrong name
Lost in the blur of power
Of a new job he never knew about
Suddenly she's his boss
Jasper, Svetlana, La Grenouille
He can't measure up
She has always been better
At hiding
Staring at faces
In the dark
A broken past
She cannot leave be
He cannot stop her
Lying in her blood
Her own blood
In a diner
In the middle of nowhere
Too much behind them
Between them
Keeping them apart
Too much history
All too complicated
For it ever to be the same
But they will always have Paris
Won't they?