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#venice
Thrum. Undulating across the cyan, sea scented lagoon, I watch Venezia condense like an artist sketching grey lines in the mist. Murano: thump, a deeper varum, static air fills with diesel vapour, smelling of engine, tasting of oil. Thrum away. My eyes wash the roofs and domes with terracotta, till I step into the canvas
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Dec 5, 2024
Dec 5, 2024 at 3:42 PM UTC
Vaporetto
Watching gondolas glide on murky mirrors as I wander alone, over bridges arched high,   immersing myself in the culture of this jewel of a lagoon. I'm passing over canals, watching couples hand in hand, in love as red as the bricks. But, why is Venice split in two when it is the city of love? The Grand Canal must agree, as she too wonders through the sun drenched afternoon; Until dusk welcomes masked figures in gold leaf, dancing past in capes like thieves stealing hearts in the magic of the Venetian night. ©️Lizzie Bevis
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Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 7:39 AM UTC
Venice
Sing my song of forgetting, Of lips never wrong, never upsetting, Sing the wine-infused air along, From the violin’s grapevine song, Purely gifted as the altar wine and alms Of the Santa Maria della Visitazione, A cadenza from the catgut of stringed waves,      The vibrato in polyphonic staves across the lagoon,           Amid the psaltery sway of submerged algae plumes,                Like the strident tails of the horses of Neptune, Or the teardrop-surge of the glass chandeliers of Murano, The same powdered hue of Venetian sky, As bluebirds fallen into their own drowned tune,   As absence awash over the sun-scattered tombs of Olympus. Sing with a felt-tipped tongue, So my song of forgetting is never undone.
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May 31, 2024
May 31, 2024 at 9:57 PM UTC
Venezia, Song of Forgetting
Remember Back in the day When those parties In Venice That say would have 25 people or so Walking through? Now they were Too big Over-packed with 50-200? With frat boy vibes? Dana Rick and I Arrived at one And I thought a At the sliding glass door Oh God And quickly escaped to the kitchen Cutting through the living room Where there was the make shift bar Nothing much in the Fridge Anyway I made my drinks And turned around To cross back And somehow Dana was there In front of me She raised her hands And wiggled through the bodies While I Said NO I will dance When I feel like it I choose So I began to follow And every elbow knees hip and arm Reached out to touch me Knocking all the contents out of my little plastic cups And though I got to the other side Contemplatively Looking back Empty The three of us Went to stand on the side of the house Safe By the water meter And I laid down my cups Laughing So the moral of this story Although I think it’s obvious Is to Go With The Flow
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Mar 28, 2021
Mar 28, 2021 at 3:05 PM UTC
LIFE LESSONS FROM A FORMER PARTIER (version 2)
Outside it is snowing, just a bit. Twelve years in and it still seems odd Vermont, cold and with its ethereal light feels more like home than the hills and mountains you spent your first 54 years immersed in. It seems odd that you were nearly sixty before rediscovering the ocean, Maine and Cape Cod, wild, often rugged, nothing like the sprawling sands where you were raised. And yet, it is these seas, not the seas of your first half century that calm your soul and raise it from it’s gloom. It seems odd that the place that sings its siren song, calls to you, makes you yearn like a lovesick boy, lies in a foreign land, with a foreign language, nothing familiar, nothing, and yet the first time you arrived, sitting in Saint Mark’s square, cappuccino in hand, the Adriatic light and salt water filling your senses you felt more at home than you have ever felt in your long fractured life. It seems odd, that you are so in love with a woman so different than the southern sirens that surrounded you most of your life. Darker. More direct. Challenging, yet gentle, Struggling strong, real. She enflames you. She calms you. She protects you. Even from yourself. You have never known a woman like her. And yet, in her arms, you feel that most unusual of things, safe. It seems odd that at this age, you look at the places you called home, and the places you feel home, that make your soul feel whole, complete, possible, and you question so much of the place and time and people who raised you. But only for a few moments before realizing home has never changed. Truth has never changed. You have.
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Dec 28, 2020
Dec 28, 2020 at 10:33 AM UTC
A Change of Homes
Outside it is snowing, just a bit. Twelve years in and it still seems odd Vermont, cold and with its ethereal light feels more like home than the hills and mountains you spent your first 54 years immersed in. It seems odd that you were nearly sixty before rediscovering the ocean, Maine and Cape Cod, wild, often rugged, nothing like the sprawling sands where you were raised. And yet, it is these seas, not the seas of your first half century that calm your soul and raise it from it’s gloom. It seems odd that the place that sings its siren song, calls to you, makes you yearn like a lovesick boy, lies in a foreign land, with a foreign language, nothing familiar, nothing, and yet the first time you arrived, sitting in Saint Mark’s square, cappuccino in hand, the Adriatic light and salt water filling your senses you felt more at home than you have ever felt in your long fractured life. It seems odd, that you are so in love with a woman so different than the southern sirens that surrounded you most of your life. Darker. More direct. Challenging, yet gentle, Struggling strong, real. She enflames you. She calms you. She protects you. Even from yourself. You have never known a woman like her. And yet, in her arms, you feel that most unusual of things, safe. It seems odd that at this age, you look at the places you called home, and the places you feel home, that make your soul feel whole, complete, possible, and you question so much of the place and time and people who raised you. But only for a few moments before realizing home has never changed. Truth has never changed. You have.
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Opulent, Decadent, Almost vicelike. The people grovel, Teeming among the city that sinks Under the weight of its own Infestation of the self. The glass reflects the leering eyes of the masses. The stench of the water rises, Cloying. Languid in obscenity The shadows rot, unseen. A graveyard of moorings past. A woman falls. We crowd around, Vultures Jockeying for view. Guitar strings vibrate in the square The sun beats down. It was beautiful here, Once.
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Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 2:36 PM UTC
Venice
i threw the rose into the canal and you pushed the tired away into other people's eyes
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Dec 17, 2019
Dec 17, 2019 at 9:59 AM UTC
the night bus
Venezia, its musical key of brick and shade And the canals in rejoining polyphony Sweeten the dour Church-ear.   From the impasto knife and loose brushwork, A thumb-smear of waves and gently-bristled strife Rise to assumption of the cloud-submerged bay, Mural of cristallo, only-light without landscape, Made too from the winds of Murano, Its clayed blowpipe of waterways molding The lagoon of blown glass and bouquet of colored sea-shadows. The Tiber lies on its side, like the lion and fox, Licking its paws at empire’s dust, A drifting gaze of water that already foresees The swift-run northward to Romagna, Where the veined fur of the roe will succumb… A ripple twitches like one dark claw of the Borgia… The watercolors of the Arno are a fresco On the wet plaster of the lips of Firenze, Tuscan fire-dream. Or like the warring leg in curve of counterpoise, Sprung foot-forward to the daring world And arm slung down in stone-victory From this valley, too much like Elah, With taunting eyes turned from the Medici toward Rome.
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May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 10:06 AM UTC
Waters of Rebirth
sing me an aubade at beginning of aurora serene and mellifluous it's like a reverie, a felicity you soliloquize, so calm that it could be psithurism I hear the beating of your heart, like the sound of a watch enwrapped in cotton a summer's zephyr opens the balcony windows, so gently dust particles are dancing in the morning light and are slowly falling on the white bedding sheets do you smell the scent of our neighbor's citrus trees? 2 hours by car is Venice and I invite you to stay in the enchanted and narrow alleys with me
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Feb 10, 2019
Feb 10, 2019 at 3:30 AM UTC
italian summer
Can you envision a city built on a lagoon? That's Venice, a name that always makes one swoon, It has a reputation for canals rather than roads, And a prime reason why one will never get bored The famed gondola ride through the labyrinth of canals, Is a must-have experience that is far from banal, Gliding through serene waters with hardly a tilt, While being serenaded by the cheerful gondolier's lilt The epicenter of Venice is the popular St Mark's Square, Teeming with tourists with a perennial effervescent flair, Historic buildings and stately arcades form the periphery, With an array of cafes and accompanying music for people to make merry Witness the serpentine line of visitors entering St Mark's Basilica church, Gazing at seemingly endless luminous gilded mosaics inside makes one almost lurch, The Pala d'Oro altar of gold studded with hundreds of gems is a marvel to behold, As are the mammoth innumerable columns that are so mind-boggling, if truth be told The majestic Doge's Palace bears the stamp of masterpiece Gothic architecture, Resting on a double arcade of marble columns lends solidity to the structure, Spectacular halls and staircases adorn the interior, replete with exquisite paintings, While ornate works of art complemented by more paintings are featured in the ceilings The Bridge of Sighs is touted as one of the finest bridge architecture in the world, The stylish Italian Renaissance connects the interrogation room to the prisoners' abode, The sculptured sad or angry faces while crossing under the bridge can easily be seen, Depicting sighs of prisoners awaiting their fate, as they mulled "what could have been" The bustling Grand Canal is the central transport hub in picturesque Venice, Gondolas, vaporettos and water taxis cruise up and down the canal without amiss, Flanked by colorful buildings, iconic structures, buzzing markets and cobbled streets, Time flies in hopping to various locations while savoring the glorious visual treat The world famous Venetian glass has a history of its own, Murano's glass museum visit facilitates all there is to be known, For intricate shapes, it is a treat to watch the glass blower's skill, Colorful designed vases and sculptures are effortlessly made at will The lengthy arched Rialto Bridge is as old as the hills, A crossover between San Polo and San Marco districts with hardly any frill, It's breathtaking sunrise view receives considerable emcomium, As a popular tourist spot, it needs no second opinion As the bell-tower of the basilica, the Campanile is the tallest building in Venice, The ring of each of the five bells is replete with history that one cannot miss, The panoramic breathtaking view of Venice from the tower top, Is one of the reasons why it is a must-experience visitors' stop The mere mention of Venice always makes the lagoon city so exciting, Little wonder that the annual Film Festival is a much-awaited outing, The aura of glamor, glitz and entertainment never wanes any given year, As folks continue to throng the city from far and near, with their near and dear
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Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 12:10 PM UTC
The magic of Venice
Can you envision a city built on a lagoon? That's Venice, a name that always makes one swoon, It has a reputation for canals rather than roads, And a prime reason why one will never get bored The famed gondola ride through the labyrinth of canals, Is a must-have experience that is far from banal, Gliding through serene waters with hardly a tilt, While being serenaded by the cheerful gondolier's lilt The epicenter of Venice is the popular St Mark's Square, Teeming with tourists with a perennial effervescent flair, Historic buildings and stately arcades form the periphery, With an array of cafes and accompanying music for people to make merry Witness the serpentine line of visitors entering St Mark's Basilica church, Gazing at seemingly endless luminous gilded mosaics inside makes one almost lurch, The Pala d'Oro altar of gold studded with hundreds of gems is a marvel to behold, As are the mammoth innumerable columns that are so mind-boggling, if truth be told The majestic Doge's Palace bears the stamp of masterpiece Gothic architecture, Resting on a double arcade of marble columns lends solidity to the structure, Spectacular halls and staircases adorn the interior, replete with exquisite paintings, While ornate works of art complemented by more paintings are featured in the ceilings The Bridge of Sighs is touted as one of the finest bridge architecture in the world, The stylish Italian Renaissance connects the interrogation room to the prisoners' abode, The sculptured sad or angry faces while crossing under the bridge can easily be seen, Depicting sighs of prisoners awaiting their fate, as they mulled "what could have been" The bustling Grand Canal is the central transport hub in picturesque Venice, Gondolas, vaporettos and water taxis cruise up and down the canal without amiss, Flanked by colorful buildings, iconic structures, buzzing markets and cobbled streets, Time flies in hopping to various locations while savoring the glorious visual treat The world famous Venetian glass has a history of its own, Murano's glass museum visit facilitates all there is to be known, For intricate shapes, it is a treat to watch the glass blower's skill, Colorful designed vases and sculptures are effortlessly made at will The lengthy arched Rialto Bridge is as old as the hills, A crossover between San Polo and San Marco districts with hardly any frill, It's breathtaking sunrise view receives considerable emcomium, As a popular tourist spot, it needs no second opinion As the bell-tower of the basilica, the Campanile is the tallest building in Venice, The ring of each of the five bells is replete with history that one cannot miss, The panoramic breathtaking view of Venice from the tower top, Is one of the reasons why it is a must-experience visitors' stop The mere mention of Venice always makes the lagoon city so exciting, Little wonder that the annual Film Festival is a much-awaited outing, The aura of glamor, glitz and entertainment never wanes any given year, As folks continue to throng the city from far and near, with their near and dear
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Sun Set Love Letters Saw the sun set on Venice Beach tonight, first time in awhile, I’ve just returned from a trip overseas, still in a constant state of both admittance and denial, after awhile, we realize nothing really matters, at the same time that everything does, so where does that put us at this point in the equation, well here I guess, with me writing you more love letters, anyways where were we, I don’t seem to be able to remember, lately my memory hasn’t been so great, my health has begun to deteriorate and I see everything in patterns, oh yeah, I remember now, we were where I tell you of how, I saw the sun set on Venice beach tonight, and the tide or rather waves, were bigger than I’d ever seen them, and I’m struggling to stay alive, I take it one day at a time that’s right per diem, and I’ve got businesses all over the world, but all I really want to do is write you these love letters, because I still love you even after all we’ve been through, and I vowed to stick with you for worse or for better, even though after awhile, we realize nothing really matters, at the same time that everything does, so where does that put us at this point in the equation?.. ∆ LaLux ∆ Oct 5th 2018
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Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 10:12 PM UTC
Sun Set Love Letters
through the streets and column cracks culture weaves and summer smacks sacred figures, holy shrine monastery in grand design cathedrals, convents, heaven’s stars god of neptune, god of mars doge’s palace, alley ways gondolier on full display winged lions on pastel breeze cicada singing from the trees pillar walk of saint mark's square basilica in all its flare crosses shade the carousel a bridge of sigh that leads to hell golden stairs on placid ridge arches of rialto bridge torcello! murano! grigio! the countess rides the river poe! sins of seven, fiery hides poplars bank the levee side black plague, attila the *** eden formed before the sun paradise above the marsh high alter, gothic arch middle age, religious wars celestial fountains, marble floors sculpted peacock, catholic faith all is true the great god saith
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 9:24 AM UTC
Venezia
Spare me your venice. I know it's beautiful, but I've four more senses And a nose That smells stagnant Water and **** Floating with pretty buildings On the Adriatic. Spare me: its Doges, its saints, its Campanile. Spare me piazzas and inquisitive xenophiles. I've got all the water And **** I desire Floating in pretty alleys Beside the black Thames.
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
Venezia
Can I tell you a secret, I think you’re the most beautiful, when you wake up with no makeup, in my arms where you are held, and you’re stretching and yawning, and I’m purring an pawing, and it seems, that any moment without you, is just time in between, and I know this is hard to explain, but do you know what I mean? I mean, you know what I mean. I’ll make the work worth it, come join this One Man Cult, we can all dance in the sunset, it’s our choice but not our fault, nope not at all. No denial without admittance, not the government don’t keep secrets, no espionage at all, I’m an open book you can read it, hey you, can I tell you a secret? It’s our choice, but not our fault, we can all dance in the sunset, come join this One Man Cult, thought that we were one, until I realized we’re all things, can I tell you a secret, I think you’re the most beautiful, when you wake up with no makeup, in my arms where you are held, and you’re stretching and yawning, and I’m purring an pawing, and it seems, that any moment without you, is just time in between, and I know this is hard to explain, but do you know what I mean? ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆ Venice, California; 2018
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
+ One Man Cult +
cherry red lipstick sips at the glass of bubbly moscato, while sitting on the terrace of her home in Venice, in a pink silk robe with black lingerie underneath feeling the hot mediterranean sun on her olive skin made her feel alive, as the day went on she reads poetry while still pouring herself another glass of wine every now and again, as the sun begins to set, she sees her favorite thing; la luna, the moon. she’s fascinated by the stars and the moon of the night sky she writes her own poetry wishing she was apart of the night sky Buonanotte amore mio she whispers to the moon every night before heading to sleep
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 12:47 PM UTC
moonlight girl
Writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess, lost in, her conscious, we’re in love, it’s obvious, this life, is only an instant, then it’s gone in a flash, like an epiphany or meditative vision, everything’s intrinsic and happens in an instant, so we operate of instinct and intuition, we drink from the Fountain of Youth, and eat the Forbidden Fruit when it comes to fruition, swimmin’ like a dolphin all in this current current that’s constant, not a fish or a fisherman so I’m not fishing, just sittin’, on the beach in Venice, watching my love swim in the sea, at midnight under the full moon feeling replenished, listing to Miguel sing tales, of The Day The City of Angels Fell, with my girl and I know she’s only human, but she seems so much like a Mermaid I swear I see a tail, as she swims in the ocean, on a wave catching waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, her gaze, melts these walls I’ve built, and yeah the water’s rough, but her touch is smooth as silk, as we set sail, into the future and all it entails, oh God I’ve never felt, so much for the touch of one, told you before she’s my lifeguard, we’re just getting started and the rest are already done, writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
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Jun 1, 2018
Jun 1, 2018 at 2:36 AM UTC
∆ Mermaids In The City of Angels ∆
Writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess, lost in, her conscious, we’re in love, it’s obvious, this life, is only an instant, then it’s gone in a flash, like an epiphany or meditative vision, everything’s intrinsic and happens in an instant, so we operate of instinct and intuition, we drink from the Fountain of Youth, and eat the Forbidden Fruit when it comes to fruition, swimmin’ like a dolphin all in this current current that’s constant, not a fish or a fisherman so I’m not fishing, just sittin’, on the beach in Venice, watching my love swim in the sea, at midnight under the full moon feeling replenished, listing to Miguel sing tales, of The Day The City of Angels Fell, with my girl and I know she’s only human, but she seems so much like a Mermaid I swear I see a tail, as she swims in the ocean, on a wave catching waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, her gaze, melts these walls I’ve built, and yeah the water’s rough, but her touch is smooth as silk, as we set sail, into the future and all it entails, oh God I’ve never felt, so much for the touch of one, told you before she’s my lifeguard, we’re just getting started and the rest are already done, writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
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Writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess, lost in, her conscious, we’re in love, it’s obvious, this life, is only an instant, then it’s gone in a flash, like an epiphany or meditative vision, everything’s intrinsic and happens in an instant, so we operate of instinct and intuition, we drink from the Fountain of Youth, and eat the Forbidden Fruit when it comes to fruition, swimmin’ like a dolphin all in this current current that’s constant, not a fish or a fisherman so I’m not fishing, just sittin’, on the beach in Venice, watching my love swim in the sea, at midnight under the full moon feeling replenished, listing to Miguel sing tales, of The Day The City of Angels Fell, with my girl and I know she’s only human, but she seems so much like a Mermaid I swear I see a tail, as she swims in the ocean, on a wave catching waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, her gaze, melts these walls I’ve built, and yeah the water’s rough, but her touch is smooth as silk, as we set sail, into the future and all it entails, oh God I’ve never felt, so much for the touch of one, told you before she’s my lifeguard, we’re just getting started and the rest are already done, writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
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May 21, 2018
May 21, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
Angels & Mermaids
Writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess, lost in, her conscious, we’re in love, it’s obvious, this life, is only an instant, then it’s gone in a flash, like an epiphany or meditative vision, everything’s intrinsic and happens in an instant, so we operate of instinct and intuition, we drink from the Fountain of Youth, and eat the Forbidden Fruit when it comes to fruition, swimmin’ like a dolphin all in this current current that’s constant, not a fish or a fisherman so I’m not fishing, just sittin’, on the beach in Venice, watching my love swim in the sea, at midnight under the full moon feeling replenished, listing to Miguel sing tales, of The Day The City of Angels Fell, with my girl and I know she’s only human, but she seems so much like a Mermaid I swear I see a tail, as she swims in the ocean, on a wave catching waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, her gaze, melts these walls I’ve built, and yeah the water’s rough, but her touch is smooth as silk, as we set sail, into the future and all it entails, oh God I’ve never felt, so much for the touch of one, told you before she’s my lifeguard, we’re just getting started and the rest are already done, writing by the moonlight, she gets lost in the Ocean’s waves, half Angel have Mermaid, have uncontrollable have behaved, so beautiful she is, this Work of Art in Progress, she’s got this God feeling God Blessed, which only makes sense since she’s a Goddess… ∆ Aaron La Lux ∆
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i want to wake up to the sound of an accordion playing on the quiet cobblestone streets and have the heat of the Mediterranean sun kiss my skin as i walk into a local coffee shop and order a chocolate biscotti i want to walk the cobblestone streets of Venice and visit little bakeries and as the night falls i want to sit under an olive tree outside under the moonlight and drink dry red wine with the love of my life
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May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 9:19 PM UTC
welcome to italy
You are the roads in Venice Getting lost in your voice Like getting lost in those streets So hard to find my way out But maybe I don’t want to Maybe I want to wander these streets And eat pasta and pizza And dream of a life with you You say you need to go But your eyes plead For a reason to stay In your eyes I see Venice And the people in the town center Enjoying their gorgeous city You ask me if I love you And I lean in to kiss you And whisper how much I love you But you were never there
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Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 2:05 PM UTC
"Roads of Venice"
Rivers of wonder, Nights of yonder, Lights of delight; And - your eyes - forever somber
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Nov 28, 2017
Nov 28, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
Eyes of Venice
Venice is cyan in the soft, early morning The canals look clean
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Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 10:19 PM UTC
Venice
Soon I'll be far away again the lapping shores the only thing keeping me from you but you should know that I would swim oceans for you even if it was just to see a glimpse of those blue mischievous  eyes always the most beautiful in the setting city sun How will I live knowing I won't awake with you entwined around me? Where do the hours go? With you I'm always losing track of time I'm at your whim Have I ever told you that I'm crazy? That I'm a little bit deranged? Baby I'm losing my mind Sweetheart It's something about the way you laugh at stupid things and make jokes just to hear a room beat with laughter Your voice turns to a hum when I look at you sometimes realizations like lighting striking me when you fall asleep arm across my stomach like you're afraid I'll leave because I've told you before how I learned from my mother how to run and I'd been doing it ever since I realized boys stared at my waist not ever listening to my words as I try to explain myself ****** hands hidden behind my back like a broken vase My father told me that I was too beautiful for my own good eyes alive  like the sky  at dawn the first morning you didn't sleep hair wild as I slow down to look at the view and he always got angry when I did that stopped dead to stare at the fading pink light of a day coming to an end You don't get angry you  just stop and look at me with the same gaze I give that setting sun and I swear out of the corner of my misted eyes I see you smile run your fingers through your hair as you wonder what I'm thinking and I've always been afraid afraid  that in the moments I spend with you that you realize that you see that I'm thinking of one thing only you and I stare at the street lamps far below a little longer tempting you to find out how much I really love you to come closer and ask me what runs through my aching heart but you  keep your distance I wonder if you just know that later when my speech is clouded I'll say it as I always do in the early hours of the morning smoking out my deepest secret like trying to coax a ghost I wish your lips weren't so protective holding in lovesick notes even when drinking the clearest false securities and she wants us to go far away and when you express how fond you are of her company she looks down everyday I see her I realize how similar we are twin stories of mismatched fears and wanderlust does she know about the way I claw at your skin as if looking for a way in bruised ribcage under lust stained sheets she used to eye me like I was a panther inching closer irises daring her kin to set me off but I'm no time bomb and I think she sees that now I'll always remember the time I realized I loved you the first time, at least it was too quick to know and I was far too invested as you watched me glare at you past branches only to fall asleep with my hair tangled in your fingers hours later does time pass differently to you when I'm asleep next to your waist? fluttering eylashes onto your knees like tiny dancers I wonder if you ever notice the soft skin peaking under my shirt and sigh thinking about how you'd long to slowly take off my clothes in the dark teeth hitting bare skin of my collarbone as if I'm prey you've finally caught I think of endings a year in advance I always have, as if everything is terminal the second I say "I love you" maybe that's why I don't say it maybe I just assume with every lost memory I discover like a shipwreck and ever passing whisper I recall you see how entranced I am my whole existence has bits of you like gems within it or possibly they all encompassed you already and the paint hadn't chipped enough to reveal you yet When you're sad you sing songs to me about Venice and the way your mother used to wear her hair to her shoulders orange milky light stained every window like melted gelato and you wondered if you'd ever find a girl who's heart was Murano all lit up in the night like a summer sweet dream when the air is hot and everyone's cheeks are a little red their hair curly from the salty spray of the sea you'd mark her neck until it looked winestained but you appear  so sad when you tell me these stories a faraway look in your vacant mind I could be your merlot skinned girl I can have eyes like the italian hills rolling into the horizon always having you search for the tallest one Let me be your Venice Let me be your home
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Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 9:19 PM UTC
Venice
Soon I'll be far away again the lapping shores the only thing keeping me from you but you should know that I would swim oceans for you even if it was just to see a glimpse of those blue mischievous  eyes always the most beautiful in the setting city sun How will I live knowing I won't awake with you entwined around me? Where do the hours go? With you I'm always losing track of time I'm at your whim Have I ever told you that I'm crazy? That I'm a little bit deranged? Baby I'm losing my mind Sweetheart It's something about the way you laugh at stupid things and make jokes just to hear a room beat with laughter Your voice turns to a hum when I look at you sometimes realizations like lighting striking me when you fall asleep arm across my stomach like you're afraid I'll leave because I've told you before how I learned from my mother how to run and I'd been doing it ever since I realized boys stared at my waist not ever listening to my words as I try to explain myself ****** hands hidden behind my back like a broken vase My father told me that I was too beautiful for my own good eyes alive  like the sky  at dawn the first morning you didn't sleep hair wild as I slow down to look at the view and he always got angry when I did that stopped dead to stare at the fading pink light of a day coming to an end You don't get angry you  just stop and look at me with the same gaze I give that setting sun and I swear out of the corner of my misted eyes I see you smile run your fingers through your hair as you wonder what I'm thinking and I've always been afraid afraid  that in the moments I spend with you that you realize that you see that I'm thinking of one thing only you and I stare at the street lamps far below a little longer tempting you to find out how much I really love you to come closer and ask me what runs through my aching heart but you  keep your distance I wonder if you just know that later when my speech is clouded I'll say it as I always do in the early hours of the morning smoking out my deepest secret like trying to coax a ghost I wish your lips weren't so protective holding in lovesick notes even when drinking the clearest false securities and she wants us to go far away and when you express how fond you are of her company she looks down everyday I see her I realize how similar we are twin stories of mismatched fears and wanderlust does she know about the way I claw at your skin as if looking for a way in bruised ribcage under lust stained sheets she used to eye me like I was a panther inching closer irises daring her kin to set me off but I'm no time bomb and I think she sees that now I'll always remember the time I realized I loved you the first time, at least it was too quick to know and I was far too invested as you watched me glare at you past branches only to fall asleep with my hair tangled in your fingers hours later does time pass differently to you when I'm asleep next to your waist? fluttering eylashes onto your knees like tiny dancers I wonder if you ever notice the soft skin peaking under my shirt and sigh thinking about how you'd long to slowly take off my clothes in the dark teeth hitting bare skin of my collarbone as if I'm prey you've finally caught I think of endings a year in advance I always have, as if everything is terminal the second I say "I love you" maybe that's why I don't say it maybe I just assume with every lost memory I discover like a shipwreck and ever passing whisper I recall you see how entranced I am my whole existence has bits of you like gems within it or possibly they all encompassed you already and the paint hadn't chipped enough to reveal you yet When you're sad you sing songs to me about Venice and the way your mother used to wear her hair to her shoulders orange milky light stained every window like melted gelato and you wondered if you'd ever find a girl who's heart was Murano all lit up in the night like a summer sweet dream when the air is hot and everyone's cheeks are a little red their hair curly from the salty spray of the sea you'd mark her neck until it looked winestained but you appear  so sad when you tell me these stories a faraway look in your vacant mind I could be your merlot skinned girl I can have eyes like the italian hills rolling into the horizon always having you search for the tallest one Let me be your Venice Let me be your home
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dying in your arms I would accept laughingly like being shipwrecked on the coast of Venice
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Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
Shipwrecked