Your Bag

8:00, Florence. Sunrise.

A first incision excites a cadence of hammers,
ringing across the studio. Each piece lays in wait
on a table in careful stacks, buzzing, propelled
forward with every stitch.

8:00, New York. Exit.

City sounds ripple in. Time pushes ahead with
seeping, oscillating momentum. Outside, your
senses devour this city, eyes scaling the skyline
that towers and bends all around you.