in Orvieto, dizzy with visions of handmade lace
and stars just teasingly out of reach. Marble
and ivy, obviously adored by someone, and I
stepped quietly, breathing shallowly in shadows,
fearing a heavy exhale would break the spell. It was
a moment all my own, and now I give it, gently,
to you. The purest reward for daring, for leaving
safe for sometimes sorry is a second in Orvieto,
a night alone in the palazzo garden, misty and silent
and knowing the best is yet to come.
No comments:
Post a Comment