#poetry   




In the air a subtle smell of juicy bone

I follow the trail drooling and licking myself

but my master just raised his hand

and made an indefinite gesture

I put the bone there.

Now there is no longer even that "you'll see".

A wall, with a heart of mortar,

of refractory stone, numb.

I feel my love contract

like the matter of a black hole.

As long as the light of this summer will want me alive

I will see life from dusk,

but, if I can choose, I want a lighthouse,

a tower in the middle of the sea,

with a small beach.

I will hear the sound of the waves

from my window

the undertow will wash away the pain

it will purify me.

Every grain of sand

every sun-dried crab shell

they will be imbued with my love.

I'll forget the meager harvest of my life

God will come down to touch me

and I won't need anyone anymore.





The lighthouse