A voice that sings
Olio su tela – cm 60 x 80 – 2011
Time running fast on my meat,
devouring,
A Battuta arrest
when, per caso,
meets the frame of my old dream
that fills and soaks my eyes,
that floods my heart lost in a maze of expectations,
by returning to the amazement and wonder of the past
in the face of grim beauty and brazen
the mare.
Go up on the shoreline
and dampen the memories
and more to come,
relentlessly, without shame,
without that time can never devour, never forget them,
pushed by the wind of my memory monolithic
with echo-laden clouds of old songs.
The moon steals the color, unique and unrepeatable,
a singing voice,
and remains on my eyelashes
as a tear before falling,
before you dive and explode
on the shoreline,
where you go up and dampen the memories,
but where others come.
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