An apparition in Milan, her adolescent banks turning unliquid in a landed metropolis of lobbies requisite chic, reflected in the freshness of a cosmopolitan woman poet over twenty years of age—
nearly "Christmas cake"—
who composed pink difficulty (though unfortunately, in translation I was obliged to use the term "rose").
Nonprogress: in the brand-new vortextual museum of the Novecento in the central square, two—count 'em, two!—women artists.
A cruise to Milan? Difficult.