I'm in Italy once again, my love.
But why is there no architecture?
Endlessly winding, the streets narrow
until the cars can no longer turn.
Did we come here? I easily forget.
All my pasts return to haunt me;
shambling, drunk creature, I dared
to love. Now the heat makes the
veins swell beneath my upturned
hands. I wonder what became of you?
Timidity hid you, even then. Only now,
I truly appreciate your fading smile.