Pilgrims

my family and I went to Milan
must see the basilica, we heard,
it’s a spiritual pilgrimage
so we booked a hotel nearby
with all pious intentions
yet over and over slipped past 
the basilica
like truant choir boys
in tourist sneakers
dripping sweet gelato gossip
wandering the tangled alleys of our shared history
bearing bags heaving with one another’s confessions
squinting as we basked
in the light of one another’s suns
each night lying on the soft, freshly made bed
of another day spent in communion with one another

we never did make it into that sacred space
or did we