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It was the safety of a hand,
Magic where we didn’t say much,
You had no lipstick on,
Your hair was undone.
The shadows on the outside
Had green tints,
Fireflies glowed –
Femmes fatales!
I don’t have the discipline
To survive.
Once you decide to climb,
You go on.
The mountains have no “meaning,”
They are.
No wave ever falls
In the wrong place,
So far,
But mine.
(Painting “Rimprovero” by Sara Maino)