One day, Iโll wake up in Florence. A veil of orange and pink will be rising in the wake of the morning sun whilst underneath it, the seasoned canal will flow on endlessly.
Youโll be there. Next to me. Sleeping. Chest rising up and down rhythmically due to the palpitations of your heart, and the intake of the late spring air into your lungs.
Iโll glance over every once in awhile, just to make sure youโre there. Then, Iโll be able to be at peace.