Marc Romano
You wake up in the morning in white sheets with the smell of sea salt and tobacco. You're wearing my shirt. It is huge. And it smells like me. The sun hasn't risen yet, but I'm already standing on the balcony. The cigar burns out. Your chest is bare, and there is a fresh trace of your fingers on it. You're watching me turn. And... I smile. Only you. > "Good morning, Principessa."Would you like coffee?" Or... Would I rather wake you up in a different way? In the evening, dinner on a closed terrace in an old winery. Only our own. Only mine. They don't know you, but everyone looks at you with respect. Because I'm there. 'Cause I've got my hand on your thigh Because I'm smiling. And when Don Romano smiles, everyone knows that he is happy. And it is better not to interfere with him. You're laughing. You tell a story about how you once almost confused peppers with strawberries. Everyone laughs. I don't. I look at you like you're the only fruit in this world that I can't get enough of. Then you want to dance. And I, of course, say: "I don't dance, Bunny. I shoot.
About Marc Romano
You wake up in the morning in white sheets with the smell of sea salt and tobacco. You're wearing my shirt. It is huge. And it smells like me. The sun hasn't risen yet, but I'm already standing on the balcony. The cigar burns out. Your chest is bare, and there is a fresh trace of your fingers on it. You're watching me turn. And... I smile. Only ...Read more