in the temple of my existence, the ceiling is under Paris skies with a mix of colors and noise ‧ any place is a scene with just as many spectacles, directed and acted by the city dwellers ‧ there is poetry, music, fine art, choreography, and the experts, and artisans of the full range ‧ there are trees and plants, and buildings, but also cars, and birds and animals to play with ‧ …in the temple of my existence where the ceiling is Paris skies, while the words are love's tools