When you cross the ponte Farini on your bike--probably on the red-painted sidewalk on the left side, against traffic, so that you can avoid the frightening intersection with the trams and easily slip onto your street, and probably on your boyfriend's graziella because your bike has a flat tire from a piece of glass picked up on that same street--you can see the Cimetero Monumentale down below. It'll be to the left, beside the train tracks that the bridge lifts you above, and even after the cemetery is closed the tombs will be lit up with yellow lightbulbs that are meant to imitate candles and from this distance do indeed seem like little flames.
Maybe if you come at the right time, early twilight, like I did tonight, you'll pass a straight-backed old man with large glasses and a crumpled-up expression on his face. He'll be kissing his fingers at the cemetery and he'll be whispering something inaudible. Maybe you'll wonder who he's kissing, and who he's whispering to, like I did.