But our Amore was not of that kind… not the epic, beautiful, fairytale kind… It was eternal, destructive, forbidden love….
Sometimes I dance, alone, to Musica no-one can hear but me. When I dance I feel the beat of the earth’s own cuore rise through my feet and legs, through my loins and belly and into my chest, until my own cuore beats in time with the earth’s. Then I wonder if te feel it too, beneath that portion of the earth’s crust where te stand, o walk, o lie, o dance too. Because always, when I’m dancing, I’m dancing with you.
The past doesn’t change, of course, it...
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