I scream at the sunset my name to shudder at the rumble of my voice. I laugh at my life game walking on my ashes.

Made up with clouds the sky throws open a water coloured sun on the horizon and an ode of joy pour from heart. The day again starts hoping to live on the blaze of coloured buds and I look at my eyeshadow palette to fix Nature on the time’s breaths.

Cold ocean of famous beaches flied over by analytical seagulls: I listen the wind hiss around my hair letting my soul go out of me to reach its horizon crowded of solitaries.

And then all is ended. Silence lowers from the terraces, granny listens no more screams and is left alone, in the middle of the empty green, and of memories; glory escapes from eyes, enthusiasm is hauled down with the flags, crumpled papers burn in the fireplace, make champions and victories useless. You continue to be…

Little pearls threaded in the mad cobweb of the unexpressed things. Alone, she looks to the bars commiserating the absents.

If I had to choose to be a toy I would be a doll. The one I never saw in the faces of mine.

I’ll come in the fog to darken your eyes injuring your pride crumpling up your passions; I’ll come to steal your heart and shut it in my mind cruel of love; I’ll come in the sun to tighten a smile opening a neverending view on your soul; I’ll come in the time

I look over down and up a wake of floors. Windows perched at an angle on a dark river, tormented by envy for not being opened in the sky. A cappuccino strip foam ruffles a cloud unable to lick it.

Will you warm up also my icy depth of my unconscious plans? Bronzing with hues the slow walk of my deep meditations? We are alone, you and me, sun, with nothing between us than my castles in the air.

I’m not able to invent complicated lines. The Ego graft on the pen has an handicap stronger than will. Maybe I pretend to resemble myself; maybe simplicity is an old family friend.