I try to find the silence that will bring
the ballad
sung by your heart.
I want to get to the very beginning
of the poem, even though
I know that
I don't feel like smiling.

I don't know how many light years
it will take me to find
your tenderness, the wind
that scatters pale memories.

I want to immerse myself
in the abyss of the body, to taste
the moment that glues our torn wings,
seeks existence
where only desire reaches.

Try to feel what's left of your breath,
to understand the pain
that's bothering you again.
I'm crossing out the last sentence,
it's time to start from
the beginning.

The last star will witness
this year's paradise fall.
I am falling apart into missing pieces,
I am suffocating with light.

My thoughts are adapting
to your arms. I am a guardian
with a treacherously broken pulse.

My heart,
sentenced to life imprisonment,
today is a seed
on the barren soil
of your hope.

My soul, imprisoned in shackles
of the body, today becomes
a temptation for those
who leave for
the other side of loneliness.

I look around, but I do not see
a helping hand.
The silence that permeates
my existence is associated with
an emptiness that makes it
worth abandoning life.

Once again
I dip my fingers in the shadow
of your heart. Once again
I look at myself in the mirror
of blood.

I would like to familiarize you
with future, but I know
that one day
I will run out of
tenderness, hatred will abandon
the remnants of freedom.

I throw off the ****
of the sky
from my back, I hug the Earth
that does not allow me
to dream,
does not allow me to skip
unnecessary heartbeats.

I'm sorry I lived so short a life.
I'm sorry that my dreams
were filled with sadness and regret.
Forgive me
for always having loved
too indifferently, for my light
still being too faint.

I didn't want to hurt future,
to condemn your dreams to death.
I was born too early to trust
in tears and to renounce silence.

I wanted to love you so much,
but there was still a false
blackness flowing
in my too tight veins.
I didn't understand the warmth
you offered me despite
my coldness and distance.

I'm sorry you waited so long
for my conscience to resurrect
in me, for longing to find its source.
For many years
I extinguished hope in you,
you waited a long time
for me to wake up from
this enslavement.

Don't be angry that I realized
it too late. I believe in the beginning
of the end, in the power
of lost melancholies.

I can clearly hear your dream,
these increasingly bold steps
towards the light.
I feel this faith, turned into stone,
so close to stolen teardrops,
to thoughts sold too hastily.

I try to find in myself
at least one memory that will not belong
to the past, that will only need
a sip of melancholy to burn.

Is a glassy smile and one look
straight from the heart enough?
Or maybe I'm asking too much
for the world to come back
into existence?

Tired of the excess of future,
I try to revive the emerald flame,
smoldering innocently at my wrists;
I will be reborn,
although a prayer of farewell
will not help,
although someone will steal
the kiss you dedicated to me.

Tenderness multiplies in me,
which I will give to you
as a lifelong souvenir.
You will remain the light
I sorely miss, that I am looking for.

Tell me, is it worth appreciating
the silence that will at some point
replace you and the fog
of your scarlet breath?

Cured of my destructive longing,
I am falling apart
like a house of cards,
built in a whisper.

I am trying to free myself
from last year's sky, but I know
that you are still guarding my soul.

Locked in my own shadow,
I raise a toast
to a happier world.
When the last bell falls silent,
I will relinquish
my freedom and forget about loneliness.

An hour will be born in me
that knows neither light nor penance.
One morning I realized
that victory
was not dedicated to me.

I will open my mouth,
close the window. I am not afraid
of tomorrow's illusions,
of another painless evening.

I made a mistake
in my calculations again,
completing the morning prayer.

This prayer is the infinite embodiment
of tomorrow.
The fire burning in my hands
is no different today
from reality.

The kisses that adorn
my white skin spread everywhere
the dead memory of time.

I float away into the unknown -
your licentious presence,
a shadow of fog, a few inedible
touches await me there.

I remain imprisoned
in my own heart.
I try to close my eyes, but sleep
refuses to obey me.

I dream of being born again
in your longing, in tears
that no one admits to.
The nights that someone
took away from the mornings
are wandering near
my knees.

An eternity that I do not deserve
lurks behind a wall
woven only from faded thoughts.

One day I will understand
that a little solitude
is enough to resurrect love.
Love without memories, love uninitiated.

I fell in love with the fertility
of your lips.
I have made myself comfortable
in the shape of your hands.

I know how many tears
it takes to build mutual happiness.

I remember how long
I waited for longing to find
its beginning.
You come, all dressed in poems,
you approach my thoughts,
you dedicate
forgotten words to me.

I don't want to look for
the source of loneliness in you -
your heart is woven from
beautiful desires.

I dream of feeling the **** aftertaste
of kisses, I want to find
hands, lost on the path
to nostalgia.

I close my eyes, spread the lips -
a bit of newborn, still green hope
falls inside.
I seek a caress where borders
of purgatory end, where the ardor
of united antipodes
does not die to the spite of future.