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(Title and sound from Max Richter)


On San Nicolo Street 
in unlikely outerwear
(unsuitable hats)
the expatriates wander
on safari without purpose
transported by the writings
of those who were there
before them.

They find themselves
in the same places
but without the fiction
and nothing, to them, is so very different
from their own homes
for they have brought
their lives along with them
and it transpires there is no escaping.

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