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By prezioso Date: 2002 Aug 18 Comment on this Work [[2002.08.18.12.42.27662]] |
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You Last night I went to Little Italy. It was not as big as the Patch in Chicago or lively as Mulberry Street in New York. There was an opera festival in the middle of the street. Fold-up chairs were scattered throughout. I picked a spot in the far corner, far enough not to be noticed but close enough to feel the vibrant melody. By habit I left a seat open beside me. A ceremonial habit in the strangeness of love. "Sposa un Disprezzata", "Tears of a Mountain", Puccini, Verdi, all of the great arias. How I wish you were there in the empty seat beside me. Not long after, a beautiful lady gently tapped my shoulder. She asked if I was expecting someone and if not could she sit beside me. I softly and sadly replied that I wasn't expecting someone, simply hoping. I told the lady that she could sit there but if by some miracle you appeared then she would have to move. It was a beautiful night last night. And in the eerie of the universe there existed only one thing that could of made anymore beautiful. Me |