Sweetness, scent and so desert full
Like ants we are drawn to that sweetness, all
Suckle sweet and insulin conjugate
Like pudding sweet, Christmas can’t wait.
So, I’m in Rome.
The birthplace of my father, arguably my ancestral home, and I am as conflicted as I am…
I will not mourn the loss of you
Remember and celebrate us two
Though we are now a memory
Vividly my friend I see
Fading feelings not meant to last