my colors.
Can you guess who?
they sprout on my heart
shadows cast by clouds as fast as small tigers
scorrazzanti
to play under a heavy brocade,
as many leaves that shade the banks
water ditches,
as backdrops
white shell
or deep
as the treasure of pebbles that
every child hides in bright tin boxes, like great birds
imprisoned
like insect shells, fish
as stubborn.
dear colors, although I do not m'appartenete
out or, perhaps .... on the contrary do not know when finished
in me, in your inconsistency
shines over the world.
that matters to me, then, to die?
it with your vacuum
fill my grave.
August 4, 2009
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