The portal
Olio su tela – cm 50 x 70
Tired out,
I fall asleep,
wrapped in the night of time that passes,
like an ancient boulder.
Lying in the sand
forced habits,
brutalized from the desert
of the usual trivia,
I'm looking for a ransom
and, just behind the usual monolith
of disenchantment,
I build with my eyes
a portal
through which to reach my abused dreams.
I wake up
in the bright sky
of this great love
which is reflected in the calm sea
of time passing and,
from the portal,
winch flying,
light as paper.
Social Network