As if time was a state of mind and far away.
As if the plans were folds and curves with no perspective.
As if there were no reflections
and mirrors can not be an image of what they have before, but
an area that continues to be what they have behind.
As there was no gravity.
As if the sand volasse ed il cielo fosse marea a terra
ed il mare non avesse onde e fosse bianco privo di moto.
Come se il suono non avesse udito
e le corde fossero tutte libere e potabili.
Come se l’acqua fosse sporca e non avessi sete
e le crepe non fossero conseguenza di una sterile aridità
ma fondamenta fertili di una vita priva di conversione.
Come se lo strappo cucisse e non fosse punto di rottura.
Come non ci fosse più porosità
ed il liquidi galleggiassero come sul vetro.
Come non ci fossero frammenti
ma solo identità distinte, coscienti e logiche.
Come se le pagine rimanessero
white and there were no thoughts to bring about.
as if your lips were thorns
your hair and steel wires connected to my tendons
spoiled and your eyes were bright silver that speak of what I want
and your words were only the verb to ' infinite
and your blood was black ink in my desires
and your skin was just dark smoke into my greedy fingers
air we breathe lead
cold in my mouth and there was no wind stress ,
rude but just dust that sits where he wants,
without any contamination. As if burning
still,
like me. As I
at hand.
As if the problem was you.
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