Day 95: Bassano del Grappa

How to define the quiet streets you've never seen before and may never see again. A small cafe, waiting on the corner and filled inside with curiosities.

They served a tiny chocolate with my macchiato -- we were just talking about this. I plopped it in, watching the milky foam absorb it slowly, like a barge sinking to the deep. I'd like to melt like that. Sans fanfare. Luxurious velvet. My particles slowly swimming farther and farther apart, until I'm a just a sweet swirl.

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