Though it's late in the evening church bells
are playing their slow and annoying sound all over the still air in the
borough. Nobody is on the street, perhaps they are searching a place of
calmness and peace in a little village quite near the sea. Just as if
it is possible.
No sound is in my head except your voice.
I remember it so clearly that sometimes it seems to me even false. I don't
know how to manage the relaxation and the sudden explosion of senses it
awakens, it's a peculiar feeling though so close to my soul I am afraid
of. I am tired of thinking of being afraid, since I know I never had been
I simply was wondering about your voice and how it makes me feel, and
consequently I thought of your silences, and pauses, and breaths, because
when you speak you always breath slowly, you would like to catch the essential
oxygen around your mouth and nostrils and go on, clearly, pronouncing
your words as if you were speaking to a multitude of people around you,
listening carefully to what you are saying. It is quite awkward, you know.
You always say things that seem terribly interesting, and later when someone
thinks about that, realizes that something always is missing. Me too.
And I don't know why.
You have been married, once, maybe. Or every aspect around makes me think
so. She was a writer, I know. She could write silly short stories, of
a brevity meaning almost nothing, just some words in the end of the pages,
to link with the title and close an imaginary circle.
That circle you think you are afraid to close.
She had eyes like a fairy, and in some way she was a fairy. Or better,
an enchantress, steadily fixed on your path to teach you how to behave
And you changed, I know, though I wasn't there then.
She had a kind of strange light in her eyes, and yes, really, at my first
glance I felt ashamed and contemporarily shy. It is not a competition,
I know in my mind. It is just when you have eaten a good food some day
in your life, and many years after it happens to try the same one, but
in a slightly different manner, something changing in its recipe. Ingredients,
I do know, are the same. Surely, the most important one is a kilo of sugar.
Apart from that, this food may also contain some poison. I am not joking.
Me, actually I have been poisoned. This is why I say she's a kind of sorceress.
It's her poison I am eating, drinking, breathing, in every minute of my
life since I've been meeting you.
This poison silently covers my heart, deeply penetrates into my brain,
and in some ways I can't behave properly, I miss the core of myself, the
one I thought I have found when first I heard of you.
She was swimming in your thoughts also when we first made love, and at
once you were no more able to tell me about you. No words, no pain, your
head was carrying on this proverb as if it was a dogma.
My head was all in a doubt.
She spoke of a daughter, I know. She's your daughter, maybe. And if she
never was born, this is why your feeling lasts just the time of a dream,
could it be of a minute, or of half a year. Your dreams can never be catched.
This is the very reason, and this is what most astonishes everyone who
is able to look at you. Not simply your face, with your brown eyes and
long lashes, and a thin lip rarely bursting in a smile, and even a sonore
laugh. No, never. The very reason is that you are so good at dreaming,
you let people express and forward their dreaming, except you. Me, in
fact, I do not know what you dreamt about, and if something now is reality.
Or maybe we are living a dream in a dream, and when I'm waking up I will
be on the soil, almost agonizing, asking for something to drink, because
I'm thirst. You are oxigen to my lungs. Fresh water to my throat. She
left me your desert.
What will you leave to me? What will I leave to you?
My thoughts are on the edge or your voice, and me, I can only follow my
Needle and thread because of a botton on your king size bed I miss you
it is impossibile not to tell you though maybe you are tired of listening
to the same words apparently annoying but always meaning too much to me
How can I tell you I need you so much you can not imagine Is it because
of your glance Is it because of your lips I still can not understand Maybe
one day Who knows Perhaps As you always say leaving me in silence Since
the beginning you left me with unspoken words You left me thinking and
writing on the same bed among blue pillows as your soul is I have a gift
for you Would you like to care It is my soul Can you imagine its shape
Can you see its being longtime as a desert You told me once Maybe I can
wake up yours So tired So lazy So astonished at first When you always
said You are too much You are too much Is it still that indeed or Am I
following a dream and it is like nicotine and I am dependent and I can
not give up filling my lungs with your poisoning love Is it love And if
it is not What is this strong feeling I have inside What is the nice feeling
you said to have in your mind Since I can not understand if it is a thing
of heart or Are you joking Are you trying to follow your own path I still
do not know where it is going If it has an end or you have an aim Can
I try to know Can I try to see one day My eyes maybe are still blind at
the moment Would you care Would you miss me Would you walk together hand
in hand as we did that time on the pebbles and me it seemed I was falling
down and you took my hands my arms my shoulder my breast You took me from
the soil where I almost was agonizing Can you remember Can you see in
your thoughts that day you were playing guitar and the room was empty
Nothing else mattered You were just there And me I was there taking photos
You filled the room with your songs Your hands slowly picked up strings
And me I was fascinated And me I began thinking This is the time This
is the place This is You This is my soul This is Love
A Day Maybe Perhaps
Five years are long to pass I miss you There is no chaos in this room
Stillness is imperative Silence is nothing I hear your voice in my brain
Words Accents Syllables Phonemes I need you It is true I am here Do not
be afraid I am too sometimes It is too long to wait for winter to come
I want your snow come slowly under my skin and freeze this too great flames
I can not wait till I will be there again Breath your soul again