I caught the scent of Chanel No 5.
The familiar perfume wafted across the restaurant
Kissing my wine glass,
Parting my senses with ease.
She was there, beautiful, brunette,
Eyes like moonbeams, lips of ruby grace.
If ever a goddess had crossed my path,
Shared the same room,
It was she.
Such a perfect vision infused,
Warmed the core,
Stirred the Venetian canals of my heart.
Still, she wasn’t Rosa,
Italy seemed so far away: a lifetime.
I finished my lasagna and left.