Anastasia leaves – stage left

espresso sipped in
 stone mountain village
pigeons eke a meal 
from crumbs scattered
a cool breeze moves
 Anastasia's locks
But nothing,
 I say nothing, 
will move her heart
stone lady said goodbye, 
not au revoir but final.
She drank red Moretti 
from the 
jar as red
lips culled 
my heart.
Cool jazz 
turned to 
bitter blues
Air dried tears... 
Is this how prosciutto is made

As the love life 
left my inert frame
She left my morose thoughts,
 turning the corner 
Espresso gone, 
samba a molinari 
takes its place
L'amore broken 
in San Gimignano
Tourists flock 
 eking a bargain
Taking home high 
priced items

I take home a stone heart.
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