In Dora,
friendship which binds me to her,
some inexplicable moments, as if they were
heartbeats of life over the same
( and for all of us)
Between breaks
breath - in the space that grows through its own pace -
between the usual contact with things, and to measure a distance
unknown - in the revolutionary turn when everything consists -
in the gaps to be filled
of impossible dreams - in the fragile texture of a pile of dust -
sooner or later it will dial the phrase
because thinking knows no cages or chains, or determining the time ...
missing ten minutes to sixteen ...
forcibly obstruct the descent into the depths of sleep,
blinked;
shake my head to fool your thoughts, deceiving
my time is spent to rearrange them, to dissolve both figures thick;
image is fixed or a window that re- a garden
swallowed by the darkness and reveals the signs of the branches on a moon mirrored
because the real moon turn my back,
(always behind the truth)
but the numbness is spreading, and as filthy water, oxygen-free thoughts.
- there is no word at this time "no" that strips
of consciousness to exist,
minimal interruption to cross the threshold of a dream. Back
or beyond the door longs the time that an angel is allowed to touch,
and she has over her life.
overwhelm me in that intimate gathering
a sentence ... the magic of thinking is not completed
for fear of the greatness of its meaning
unfinished
his place in the lightness of the inexistent, impossible, unreal ...
echo huge and terrible is the sound muffled
elsewhere chimes, bell
painful, sweet, attentive, not a hiss
malignant punching
or item for which to be afraid.
in the opportunities that are offered, among
clippings in an album
dear to us - including the caesura of a verse read and reread -
in the figures drawn by the flight of a
thought - in the fury of which is the sign - between
time (passing and really get lost -
or mind games to once again offer)
in fear that drags hypnotic, bitter and harsh, toneless
(because the soul has no entries explained ... whispers ...)
and dampens confidence in the word,
unbeknownst to me, I look back now lies the secret grave,
mysterious buried city in the heart, and a breath freezes
tears, humor unknowingly
secreted by opposing forces in the act of the match.
are revisited and evocations, attitudes distant, painful and calm, to play
leather soul?
live ... and her life ... in an explosion of colorful pieces
but even if there was light ...
- the world survived the brimming light fragments of condemnation to proceed. -
And behind the pathetic light, the darkness of humanity stands.
Inexorable, proceeds
the monstrous machine that reveals harsh music, and remove
enchanting colors.
Inside themselves, they look for the illusion, on every road, a way out.
And the words are modeled with macerated intimacy
mark the motion of the feeling generated.
grind the nibs erupted;
confused between the ink
understand what the serenity
drown in the languor of ways unrelated to me, but reiterated
is their possession,
betraying the end near, or already taken place, with the weakening of voice.
not always believe in angels, but there is a breath
beyond my
in this house where I reign alone.
Loneliness poisons, it is like absinthe, once tasted
becomes essential
but I begin to experience the joy of your presence.
Franca
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