All I remember of Urbino

The stone was parchment coloured
and the shade was clean sliced blue tinted
and we ate pasta in a quiet square
as if we’d never eaten it before,
as if we were a painting of the first
people to eat pasta. We were art,
and we drank wine, impossible,
clear as sunlight, clean as water,
and the afternoon strolled by,
pausing to watch us, framed there.

Lillian is hosting us at dVerse. She’s in lockdown and she wants to travel the world on our words. In our house, we’ve been thinking about Italy. A lot.

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