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Ashes mixed with ink
under my skin are not the way I choose to remember. Instead, we stand on this dusty border still together, like I promised. Perched on our horizon we share the silence. Our nostrils only just distracted by the illusion of eucalyptus. Every drop
cleansing replacing reminding the disciple to shed a thought for each new sound to lighten the load. Tonight I feel like a morning All I want to be Is Water, Dripping in a Bowl. Dal verde del fondo
riporti abissi di luce l'apnea si trasforma in bacio nutrimento le alghe. Respira il relitto la carena sorride. Sottocoperta, se cerchi bene c'è ancora la scorta di spirito bottiglie scure nascoste dal bucaniere con la barba. Linee rosse
Rughe di sangue nel bianco Gli occhi che fanno vedere Si fanno guardare E non osservano più Regole specchio di un'anima Linda svuotata di quello che viene Da chi riconosco lontano da me Tutti, cioè e nessuno può dire Nulla su dove mi porta Quel fiume di vene Quel vacuo spazio di fango Mappa di strade smarrite Le vie che il deserto deride. Perso a guardare me stesso allungo la mano a toccare sentire scaldarmi mi perdo morire bisogna per tutti da dentro cercami Cercami. Mi guardi Mi salvi Orizzonte di verde. Sento la vita che trema ma io mai potrei essere altrove. Bagnata di sollievo Di pianto Casa. ...terra. She rises to sit on the edge of her world
The cloud-white sheets hide red shame A drifting ship that just won't sink, nor forgive or forget Ferries it all back to the space in her mind. She turns to smell unwanted memories The fingers she never meant to dip In tar-like depths that crush and wreck Each breath, until the last. The mother of all violence gives birth To lack of alternative vision The nonsense of difference will change Every form of warmth into rape. If she had chosen to stay old Unadventurously cold Like the sea, her waves silvery But really mercury, Heavy cancer flowing through my lungs The right to a vision Denied Is freedom's greatest sin. Take my hand, it's over: Will you ever trust again? I knew it... And I could kill for just a glimpse Of the faintest shade of pink. Now I have paid the price, I am running on empty. And really, I'm not running at all.
If I had learned silence when I was given the chance, all would be quiet and much more controlled. I yearn for noise-fasting, though I fear that somehow I'll be forgotten. I call on myself as I shake, hoping that somehow the pieces will fit, that nothing is lost, though this can't be. Imagine the elderly lady you know, who lives down your street. She's bent and she's weak, she picks up her bags her shopping is scattered, you can't see what's happened, you know she could cry. Look at her. She's me. Look at my shame. And now? It all goes white as I fall... |
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