ELISABETTA
BAGLI
The Crust Of The World
What is
your offer?
Your
dream or your shadow?
Your
future or your past?
A kiss
lost
In the
vanishing air of the night
Or the
gnashing of teeth
In
certainty?
What is
your offer?
A memory
of soft breasts
On which
to languish
Or your
dead belly
That has
chosen the dark
In which
you believed to be
A new
You?
What is
your offer?
You offer
me a suspended soul
On the
crust of the world,
A soul
who implores mercy
For
having finished
Infinity.
Bios
I have
gone
Under
your blankets,
Opening
roads
Beyond
the sea
To look
for life.
You have
exploded
As early
spring
Giving me
your belly,
Arching
your flesh,
Your
flesh that will give strength
To other
flesh.
The
flower is there,
With its
roots,
They will
grow to get wet
With your
colour,
To shout
Their
head off to the world.
Indifference
Indifference
Digs deep
In the
soul of he who
Does not
want to hear.
It
desecrates distant love,
The love
that no longer has eyes
Or
fingers,
But only black
rain
To
satisfy miserable days,
To
nourish a desert
Of mouths
without kisses.
ELISABETTA
BAGLI
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