You-the night-the day
she-the day-the night,
or just the fair pulse
somewhere in the air the hollow howl

She feels it in her bones. Yes. She feels
whatever shall be: a blinding ambiguity
The morning recycles dreams.
laundry crushed on the river stones
women are crying and washing
Oh, she wishes to air the night of your body,
to pull you out of your death.

The shadowy flowing of now
pierces her eyelids with your cellophane smile
her cells rustling: you-you-you
even screaming like a yo-yo
to be heard backwards
till the Big Bang

the silver teeth of desire tear the night
till his eyeballs turn into rainbows
he is searching for a tender eye
to be born out of.

when she touches him
miraculously (only in dreams)
with soft trembling fingers
the wonder explodes in vertigoes under his skin
the bones are crystal sonorous
the night just forgets its name -
his body is throbbing a litany
of unknown shapes.

when she touches him
something so natural happens:
he becomes a fish,
a tiger, an eagle,
a missing fossil,
a submarine volcano.
searching his boundaries
he curses his dying hour,
the pain of letting go,
the violent pursuit of a name.

her fingers
charmed with dawn-like dreams
draw the shape of his body into the air.
when she touches him with silence
he would die a thousand deaths
only to be born one time
out of her hands
enchanted.

A blossoming intensity
Invisibilium
One day I’ve felt: to be who you are

the urgency of feeling alive
the quietness of the waving at the end of the road
That’s how it is: I am who I am
An intense inexplicable tautology
or  a certain taste in my mouth,
a lazy hand on the morning pillow.
the salt of the earth in my tears, so many, uncountable
young staring in the mirror- to have someone to watch my scorching sorrow
the conundrum of why to keep dreaming

iridescence of silence in my gaze,  unpredictable tones

To be, to keep it simple.
the elements and their transmutation cannot explain it:
each and every antientropic pulsation
the eyes of fire see through me
I am unrecognizable inside out
Cause I am you and you and him.

what is beauty: a naked word
sore chest with wonder
torment-like tension suddenly flooding
soothing radiation within
unborn words
silence

a world reinventing prayer: it is beauty
tearing me down

she would unriddle your wrinkles
wear your sweating
cast away your death
in her sighs

she would have you
rest your name
in the echoes of her womb
drunken you
with her rapture
of being alive