Couldn't Be Real...

She always wore something that nobody else owned. 

If you asked her where she got her badass floppy hat

or her over-sized over-laced vintage dresses somehow sexy and inviting,

she'd smile as though she was seriously considering answering you. 

 She just didn't know which answer to tell you.

Maybe it was the summer in Rome

when she and Umberto skipped classes 

to drink their weight in Limoncello

and learn to make gnocchi. 

And love.

Far better courses, all, than Literary Translation.

Or maybe she was remembering the fall in Capri.

She'd allotted eight weeks to write a book

for girls who took a wrong turn with the wrong boy.

It would take longer than three weeks 

and a wardrobe change, turns out.

There really was no telling where her mind was living,

so questions were wasted on her. 

We settled on admiring her costume jewelry

and coveted her freckles...

wondering how she was able to change 

her eye color by the shade of her nail polish.