An Afternoon in Rome

An Afternoon in Rome David Sapp When coincidence gave us an afternoon in Rome it didn't occur to me to mislay our ages, before my graying head vanished around a corner, before your lithe form rushed headlong into life; now I wish we might have risked one kiss, an impulsive urge in the Forum, shoulders grazing in a fragment ofshade on a remnant of temple overlooking the ruins ofthe House ofthe Vestal Virgins, your soft figure making the sharp stones harsher; a pause on our walk where the columns ofTrajan's basilicas once rose, where the previous day when you were frightened, fending off a gypsy girl yanking at your tote: a quiet, unhurried kiss, a lingering, consoling embrace; in the Magritte exhibition, our cheeks and fingers nearly touching, peering into each, 55 56DAVID SAPP curious, disconcerting canvas, our patting lips perplexed in a peculiar, electric landscape; in the Gesù " church, our hearts like giddy kids dashing from a sudden, clamorous downpour into the thick, abrupt and silent, gilded chaos of unrestrained Baroque; a shy and tentative kiss, feigned awkward innocence in a forbidden holy place; in the dark Pahzzo Venezia, where Caravaggio's luminous bodies burst from shadowed walls, a kiss in a dim tenebristic passage, muted rain and desire echoing from high frescoed ceilings; oh, we could not stop at your lips! I'd find the corners ofyour eyes, the supple hollow ofyour throat, my face lost in your disheveled hair; or when I pleaded for one more painting in San Luigi dei Francesi, waiting on the steps for our doors to open, scooping fruitygehto to cool our tongues; if we kissed then, after die storm passed, the sun reappearing, our moods buoyant, we would have laughed, our mouths sticky. ...