springtime in Sicily is a sweet sting,
hope humming through the chill.
The shreds of celebration smile
defiantly under small, stomping feet,
refusing to blend into the swirl
of patterned paths. A girl in a pink,
wintry princess gown reaches into her bag
for more, shyly smiling as she throws
the colors in the air, just as I do,
every time I kiss you.
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