Nostalgia
A lost lifetime in a preternatural place
A bitter bean upon my tongue,
Its heat my mouth has quickly stung.
A hallowed palace on my left,
But of its charms I grow bereft.
San Marco’s clock is just above,
Where once I came to meet my love.
The espresso yet I cannot feel,
So through my memories I reel.
His hand my shoulder lightly traced,
His eyes would glint to see my face.
He my worries could erase,
His smile filled my heart with grace.
I sip my fix and fix to go.
I cannot bear to leave it, though.
Her endless bridges, endless brine,
Her alleys, her masks, her sun, her wine.
She is my home, her canals shine,
He may have known her, but she is mine.
About the Creator
Maggie Sicilia
Maggie is a Chicago-based writer, editor, singer, and actor. She is an avid reader, an amateur foodie, and a strong supporter of the Oxford comma. ig: @maggie.sicilia
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