No More Cannibals

My first full day in Paris I jogged to the bakery. They did not open until seven, so I went on the corner to get a café. I like that they only use espresso. It tasted great – I got a double. Spoke a mixture of Spanish and French. Bought five chocolate croissants and four baguettes – we made sandwiches and are heading for a day in Versailles.

Sitting in the top corner of an RER, I see my first stray animal, a calico cat sitting on green slope. Looking towards the back row of homes.
In a tunnel I look at my reflection, and alternately purse my lips then make my face go slack. Coming out of the dark I see free standing home and we are at the Chaville Velizy stop.
Most graffiti lettering on this route is silver.
Sirenes Ailees.

At the gardens a fish jumped while I watched a swan sit on its nest. The surrounding buildings were out of the past of fairy tales. Of cartoons from my childhood. By the time this had happened I had forgotten completely about the palace out front – miles away. I am lost in the grounds.

We got here on rented bikes.
Miles and miles merry-go-round. Pointed out the black sheep. The weather is great, hoods up sunny.
Versailles is amazing. We bike around fountains and what I see is the golden giant breaking free. His beard game is immaculate. We eat sandwiches and I haven’t ridden a bike in a long time…it is refreshing to slowly carve back and forth across the road.
A snake bites a breast, and mermaids curl on top of sea monsters.
I hold a bouquet of oceanic delights up to the sun but it’s happening inside my head. “Inside my head?” Yes, I’ve been reading Gilbert Ryle.

Inside the palace: “Louise-Marie-Anne de Bourbon” posthumous portrait.
In the Peace Drawing Room I question the legitimacy of my family, as they were not born in public.
My brother and I want to go in almost every closed door.
I half dance in the long mirrored room, and I see a girl doing the same thing. I don’t know where she is from, so I guess Japanese. She half skips and quarter turns lightly. I am standing alternately on the tips of my toes and heel, I do graceful full spins. I cannot help myself, imagination is too strong. My arms are held in check, but maybe my hands move a bit – like small pocketknife cuts through the air at my sides quick. Almost hear music. See a myriad of ages in the mirrors and throng of people wearing headphones. “This is the room….”
Now this is the room where I time-travelled to a ball and elegantly danced.
I wanted to invite her.
She seemed just as in to her fantasy, though, as I was.

After all day I don’t sleep on the train ride back to the hotel.