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Intake smoke by the arno
while we audibly admire an impossibly old skyline.
The skinny and noble Italian cypress perfectly complements the ancient weathered watchtower.
The skinny and noble Italian men parade in their wool and silk
a perfect contrast to the cobblestone
so proud.
After the clock strikes 22
they prey on the American studentessa-
and the American studentessas prey back.
Innocent and quiet while brightly tinted and loud;
everyone gets what they want in a Florentine dream.
What tangibility is it that I want?
I wait for this place to help me know.
It’s a head full of conflicts, daily:
desire but desire to not desire.
I look to the sky and walk with my face to it and the towers and frescos.
I look away from the shop on all corners calling to my foreign material eye.
I look to be totally immersed in this immediate incredible present.
To mute the desire so many miles across the water.
Time is a swirling haze of mystery and luck
caught in a calendar of pending plans.
Time is measured by the forecast of impending sun-
a beloved sun that has hibernated for weeks, 
along with personal existence. 
Rejuvenation will come with the sun
Replace the vitamin regimen with Signoria sketching and Arno gazing.
Replace the stark white apartment with a gallery housing history.
I keep with my vague love spats
and my rolled up tobacco; occupied hands.
Boundaries will be named
in this absurdly good life..
in THE life.