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Milano

The weekend begins with your smile at a frozen yoghurt. You mix the doughs, batter the eggs, and bury my emotional motion sickness. The arrival of cappucino e brioche on your gingham obliterates our dark times of May and June. After 25 seconds of diligence, I think about your smile, the synchronous smile at the school bell, and the waves of rollercoasters that summated my second degree in 4 years. Before I leave for fencing, you whisper like our first eye contact during a sandbox session.

Just come a little closer.

Natural sights and the people who bark at your attempts at search 

Won't follow you to the fences where I prayed to get myself up on my own two feet. 

Can't wait to see you again at Arco della Pace.


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