Florentine Dreams
A poem
A poem
I see her crossing the Ponte Vespucci
Eight o’clock by the bell towers chime
A moving vision against the sunset
Discard the cigarette, order the wine
Versace dress swings on rhythm thighs
Stepping beat of Prada shoes
Pulling these male approving eyes
Inviting lust, I seek to excuse
Lovers die in the flame of beauty
Florentine lady, bewitching, unkind
Laughing through my sterile daydreams
Leaving me broken, trailing behind.
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