espresso sipped in
stone mountain village
pigeons eke a meal
from crumbs scattered
a cool breeze moves
Anastasia's locks
But nothing,
I say nothing,
will move her heart
stone lady said goodbye,
not au revoir but final.
She drank red Moretti
from the
jar as red
lips culled
my heart.
Cool jazz
turned to
bitter blues
Air dried tears...
Is this how prosciutto is made
As the love life
left my inert frame
She left my morose thoughts,
turning the corner
Espresso gone,
samba a molinari
takes its place
L'amore broken
in San Gimignano
Tourists flock
eking a bargain
Taking home high
priced items
I take home a stone heart.
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