*** You were the whisper - not a mouth, My slice of brown bread in Rome, A piece of unexamined something, Embracing me inside my word storm… You were a…
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*** “Love itself is childhood”, As Tsvetaeva wrote. Between you and me There is no comma, No cup of tea, no ‘sogno’, Only a beat of heaven. To tell the…
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*** I see your image always on the foreground Of my morning walks, my attic sunsets, All my verses are as much for you As for the snow and seas.…
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*** We began at the real beginning, With love. We discovered it covered completely By vast olive groves, Among the Maniots, Inhabitants of Mani Peninsula, They lived in house-towers To…
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*** Her hair bobbed And a smile on her heart-shaped face, Muscles welded into Ilissan hocus-pocus, Has no sandals nor school - Only a charcoal, A half- clothed Greek, A…
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*** Railroad stations, Outdoor pedestrian streets, Pubs - We used to chance encounters, No more now. Touching online - 'Betweenness' as choice, Motionless movements all day , Talking to screened…
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*** Birds never look down, Their boat-shaped mouths Let the vowels out, Absent from all the photographs I’ve done, Were they even in the sky? I lower my eyes: Have…
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*** When you are sitting late on the balcony, In a thin white shirt, With the lamp shade hitting you from the window, You are transparent. When you are looking…
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*** Happiness Is dozens of happinesses. A new planet. Clouds in full sail. The sulphur smell Of matches. Availability. To try again. An open door. The joy of hearing. Wearing…
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*** The beginning suggests something, The suggestion becomes a silhouette, A silhouette, caught on canvas, By hand is made real. A line starts from fingers, Spends their energy, then, the…
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