The elusive art of waiting

It’s an art
I’m trying to master,
but all I manage to do
is fill the space of time with ‘items’
so that my thoughts don’t linger,
excessively, on the awaited one.

The void itself is grey,
but not always,
it does depend
on the nature of the expectation.

It’s dark grey now,
that I am waiting
for relieving news.

It can be purple,
in other cases,
better cases.


To dance one dance

To dance one dance

Out of a dream
you came to me
to dance one dance.

It left me
unexpecting, my womb in flames, my breath short.

Gratitude and melancholy.


Un giro di danza

Della materia dei sogni
sei venuta a me
per un giro di danza.

Mi ha lasciata
senza pretese, col ventre in fiamme, il fiato corto.

Gratitudine e malinconia.