A Courtyard in Florence

I don't even know his last name!

He's sitting outside on a bench
And I thought--Oh thank God
Somebody speaks English
Because he had a Yale sweatshirt on
And so I walk over and say 'Hi, I'm an American
But I went to Brown'

And he says something in Italian
And so I point to his sweatshirt and say--

'Yale?  America?  Yes?'

And he nods and then holds up his hands
Like, sort of--'No clue'

Then he holds up what he's drinking as if to say--

'You too?'

And I thought, Why not?

So I sat down

And we started, well not really talking
It was more like we were playing a flirtier version of charades

And that's how I ended up sleeping with someone
That didn't speak English

I'm not even sure he was Italian
What he was speaking sounded Italian
But for all I know
It could have been Russian

I didn't care
I didn't care about anything
It was Italy
What was there to care about?

And of course, Maggie flips out
And says--He could have been a serial killer!
He could have gotten that sweatshirt
From some poor Yale girl
That he massacred in his Volkswagen!

(Maggie thinks all serial killers drive Volkswagens
Because she watched Zodiac
And now she thinks she's an expert)

I said, 'Maggie, if we're going to be twins
--And we don't really have a choice--
Then it doesn't make any sense
For both of us to be the conservative one

There needs to be a better sense of balance'

And she sort of harrumphed
And left the hotel room
To go check out
Yet another museum

And I went down to the courtyard
And remembered the way that man said 'beautiful'
It seemed to be the only English word he knew
And he used it on me

'Beautiful'

He spread that word all over me
Like aloe, and it...

It healed something

Something I didn't know needed healing

Suddenly I was a woman
My own woman
And not somebody's twin sister
Indistinguishable from this other person
Stuck to her, really
I mean, if I'm being honest
Stuck to her

My mother used to call us conjoined
Because that's what we were
Inseparable

So maybe I did something stupid
Just to separate myself
To cut myself free

I don't know

I just know that Maggie isn't beautiful
She's not
It's just...she's not

And so I thought that meant
I couldn't be beautiful either

So when that man said--'beautiful'
I thought--it's possible

It's possible
For things
For us
To be

Different