Then Pilote boy looked into my eyes and said,
"Shall we go to Las Vegas right now and get married?"
I replied, "But we are in Venice now."
Some sort of misunderstanding did happen.
We walked in odd mourning to the pier, holding hands. Behind us, bellboys pulled at luggage.
He was wearing a linen shirt and I a red dress.
Full gondolas of Chinese tourists snapped photos of the candy-colored mooring posts,
and our last kiss.
No comments:
Post a Comment