Penelope watched as the couple swooned over one another inside of the gondola. She admired how he had brushed her hair away from her eyes so that he may gaze deeper. Penelope sighed and envied the woman’s hand as it gripped her lover’s shoulder tightly when she leaned in to kiss him.
Penelope tried to recall when she had last fallen in love. She could not recall a single face, name, or moment in time when she knew that she was in love.
“How long has it been? Have I ever really loved?” she asked herself.
The beautiful Venetian boat and it’s lovers soon drifted out of her gaze.
Her view was forever changing and always breath taken; today was young lovers, tomorrow maybe some fisherman; but never, rescue.
Though Penelope was just bone now, long ago strung and hung; it never kept her from enjoying the life below.
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