Raffaella Picotti

ricordo

C'erano notti brindate sulla luna,
poi processioni di dita e di respiri acerbi,
negli occhi spalancati delle stelle.
 
Ruggiva l'afa sulla pelle intatta,
e discendeva in lacrime di sale.
Negli angoli smaniosi, il desiderio
accompagnava il fiato.
 
Spiccioli di silenzio a tintinnare il cuore.
 
E tu che contenevi il mare,
colavi lento,morbido,rotondo,
sottile e fragilissimo ricordo.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Raffaella Picotti.
Published on e-Stories.org on 12.02.2008.

 

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