Blizzards blew, the summer warmed

Blizzards blew, the summer warmed. The frozen bodies thawed again, Othello and Gargantua, Hotels, we rushed from here to there. Monica Bellucci, sunsets in Monte Bello, Belle, Notre-Dame, Luciano a cappella. Benigni, e la vita mucho bella. On angel wings you flew into embraces Thank heaven it was Cupid, not Akela. A bow and arrows, not para bellum. Passion raged and roared like mad — Svetlov and redonda caravella met. Love boiled over, turned to stone again. A movie novella worn right through to holes. Two pizzas, Coca-Cola, mozzarella, Garlic sauce with ketchup, olives, stracciatella The bitter taste of parting, you refused To settle for an aftertaste of metal. It cooled. No longer set on fire. Con te partiro, all-seeing Bocelli Picasso's talent, dreams in watercolor We watched, we saw, we moaned and wanted… It seemed we'd lived a life, grown old together. But just as the twelfth week's term ran out… The summer ended, birds came flying in… It's time for you and me to change our beds…