Hanging In A Jar

Vesuvius is beaten and Warsaw defeated. Pietro and Federico clasp hands. Ghosts of gladiators lie in bloody heaps. The sea's high gale tests the treetops. A blanket of spectacula and soft grass keep the lovers warm.   Much later, their bodies are found. Stripped of flesh, still intertwined. They had been waiting for the sun to go down. But the sun forgot for a while. Stalled spectators hungrily eye the eternal tussle. Limbguine, al cuore.