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broken heart poem

dolce e forte
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
sonno, fratello grigio della morte
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
con gioia e wonder
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
dal puntello, dal mare
splendor dolce
alti pareti ed enorme
osservare di lŕ
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento

 



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