soleil, and I
came down to Italy for the summer
to see the boys with cigar colored skin
we stood in the balcony, all manner of cloths
and linens wrapped around us like an atmosphere of color
the sun drowned the flowers in her hot perfume
at the mouth of the balcony she bore holes into the stone
and we fell into the rapid streets
of bread and bicycles and more and more roses
seduced by her aroma, the olives proud little bullets
in a wooden bowl