The Italy I show you is not the world I live in.
You do not see the city
the traffic lights and cars
the stop signs that say STOP
the paved streets and honking cars.
You don't see the city that could be any city.
You see what I choose
what I love
and it looks like I am living in a colorful world
a world of decay and graffiti and laundry and rust
of bare branches and magnificence
of picturesque alleys and ornate doors.
And I am
but also
I am not.
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