Say it like a prayer no one answers... She turns her back on the iron lattice that once promised forever. Black threads rise from her head like mourning banners in reverse, lifting her out of the world that named her bride. The river holds her shadow longer than it should, a dark dress spread across the water, still waiting for footsteps. Notre-Dame, the Arc, the Tower,all silhouettes now, watching her go without a sound. She does not wave goodbye. Some loves you don’t leave, you simply stop belonging to them. And the sky opens its arms like it’s been waiting centuries for her weight.