rain dripping through the slats above
landing, each time, somewhere new.
my feet were bare.

you always tell me I should wear shoes,
sometimes you offer me yours,
but I like the way
the mud feels between my toes -
by now I think you know.

thick smoke
lingering everywhere
broken by raindrops,
brought together by wind -
dancing away
to some far, distant land

we gaze through the squares
in front of our faces,
watch while cars speed by
in the unrelenting rain.

pizza?

pizza’s always good,
you know, when I was in Italy...

....the sentence trails off

you know.

and we step fearlessly
into the unrelenting rain
make our way inside
and like always you're sure
my feet are warm

your pizza is on the floor
and my laughter is coming
like the rain falling outside.
the look you give me
makes me laugh harder

until there are tears
running from the corner of my eyes
and my cheeks are warm and happy.

that’s when I know,
as I finally calm
and wipe the tears from my cheeks,
that there is no place
in the world
I would rather be than here -
giggling at pizza in the floor.