I left Florence two months ago, at the start of November.
This city has stuck to my heart like the most bittersweet love, and like the freckles on a lover’s cheek I remember the small details that make this place so special.
I love Florence for the poetry you can find pasted like movie posters on street corners.
I love Florence for the eyes that are always watching, and the wee stick figure citizens who live on its ochre walls.
I love Florence for ribollita, its humble stew of chickpeas, kale and soggy bread, which you can get for a pittance just about anywhere in the city.
I love Florence for the Duomo, which towers above the city and seems to peer over the rooftops of so many buildings like a curious alien giant that wants to see what all those little ant-like humans are up to.
I love Florence…
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