dita di vetro

Glances are rolling like thunders
through the milk-eyed city.

It's been raining like mad in my mind.

I can't but stare.
Queenlike I glide towards any opening that I sense in the dark.

All the far-gone ones are waving at me beyond the golden bridge.

Air is thick and hisses at my back as if crowded with snakes. Stern and wise they look.

Tacere.
Scrivere.
Promettere.
Sorridere.
Dire, fare, baciare. Lettera.