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AbsenceAbsence makes the heart grow fonder.
With you away, my mind does wander.
I didn’t realize that it would be
The worst thing that could happen to me.
I should’ve known it wouldn’t last,
But I’ll admit it happened fast.
You told me, but it was no use,
‘Cuz after that, all hell broke loose.
The times we had, I hope you know,
Were what I remember more than the woe.
I’ve tried to make it up to you,
But then you told me we were through.
I couldn’t think of what to say
To make it last just one more day.
I wish I had another chance,
To save what’s now an ex-romance.
Please, oh, please, just hear me out.
I will not scream or yell or shout.
Just let me tell you how I feel.
I swear to god that this is real.
There is no getting over us,
But we’ve one more thing to discuss:
Those times we had, did you suppose
What I felt during all of those?
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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