The worst thing about traveling is
you don't get to know so many
more people than if you stay
at home In Paris I
didn't get to know
that boy in the
purple scarf
who played
pinball
games
all
day In
Rome that
black couple
kissing London
a stunning brown-eyed
waitress with her front tooth
missing Munich Amsterdam
And in seraphic old Siena where
I stayed burning longer than usual
I didn't get to know at least eight
people I never met each one of
whom turning toward me in
repeating rooms
with untouched hands outstretched
I can nev
er for
get