martedì 24 gennaio 2012
poem - there
There, there’s a sliver of my soul, near your heart,
your smell, your likeness ensconce and caress my mind, like a gentle feather offered to the wind, a silent plume bathed in dark ink dotting our thoughts, smeared in the sky, like diamonds resplendent in the blazing sunset.
There, after the ruins and the half-finished landscape, and trees bent down by the gales and gusts of dusty yellow amber evenings – there, by the lake, amidst the rocks, in a whirlwind of tears and dry autumn leaves, our hearts still beat to the rhythm of a perfect timing, unimpeded, flowing, moving our still forms as we rest enamoured, watching the willows sink in shiny, shallow waterbeds.