say goodbye to winter

Photo by Lê Tân on Unsplash

He is kissing her the way he kisses me, the curve of his body the same slight bend, as if nothing else matters but that kiss. His eyes closed, his arm around her waist, he caresses her lower back in a cadence of its own, following a melody that’s just being written. He’s writing their love song with that kiss.

My Rick, Ricardo Giacomo Punta, the composer, should be in Rome at an unexpected rehearsal.