poetry of the gamine

This is it. This is what I want (and at times, had) in my life. A sprig of poetry, spontanaeity, adventure, and pure charm. I discovered this a few nights ago. She captivated me, made me dream, inspired me to feature my mischievous little soul outside my body.

And yet her moment that day remained private, contained, and secluded from the chaos and rhythm of the Paris streets and the unaware Parisians. Of course, it helped that she was a beautiful little thing, gamine, urchin, flower, petite silhouette, ingenue.

But I did not want to join her, for fear of rudely disrupting her moment, intruding on her moment, which was intimated to me - a glance, a nearly invisible yet conspiratorial smile. The message was crystalline to me: I must live my own private moments, discover my own poetry, my mischief, my self.

I've done that, often times unaware, and when I do notice, it still remains private, like that nearly invisible smile she flashed me in the record store as the bouncy New Order song played and it was like a boy who discerned her in the crowded Paris street and fell in love for a moment before losing sight of her, perhaps forever, perhaps not.

EDIT: It was a beautiful little black and white film on YouTube set to New Order's song, Temptation, that I wanted to show here. Unfortunately it was removed due to terms of use violation. The photo above is all I have left from it. I'm sad now, I so wanted to share it.

RE-EDIT: I found it, posted by another person!!! Enjoy it while you can, it will most likely be taken down in the next few days.