#11 Umbrian Gothic

I followed fireflies down
the damp olive tree corridor
and into a cave where
a wall opened at the back, in the recesses
of mystery, and
torches flickered
and caught wind,
extinguishing in a flash.

Stone grated behind me
with an echo, the outside lost to me,
and he was there
waiting for me.

The bulbous-bodied
insects lit a love
for us, a path
that had been carved
over many years.

We roamed its magic, a pulse
of nature
that showed us we already knew
how the story would end.

And we emerged under the Umbrian summer,
hand in hand, never the same
again.

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