Una nuvola arriva e copre,
Un ombra davanti al sole
Dalle tenebre
Diffonde la luce

Ha le forme di un tocco angelico
Forse un dio, premuroso,
O un suo messaggero,
Che abbaglia gli indifferenti

Ti avrò pensata una, due volte,
O forse cento o forse mille
Ogni volta era pura magia
Con le tue braccia a me avvolte

Ti avrò pensata urlando,
Piangendo e mentre ero felice.
Allo specchio mi son detto,
Rifarei tutto quel che andiam sognando

I look back at old comments, hoping for something new to see
Some old remark of a person I once was
That stench that burns your nostrils and kills the back of your throat
Stinging into the base of your teeth and down to your fingertips
Bite your nails with yellowed teeth and suckle on the nicotine feed
That keeps you strong
Like balsawood and matchstick towers,
We built our castles in the mud and grit of it all
A glorious death had I not found my feet

Feet running
Running rabid and fast, too scared to slow down
Too nervous to stop.
Stop searching. Stop searching for something to hold onto
Let it all out of you
Hands released
Let the waters take hold of you
floating on top.

So selfish of me to not see the sun
The day breaks and falls to pieces in your hands
Crumbling down with a certain sweetness behind
Like burnt caramel that sticks
As we stand.

How beautiful it is
We talk of fun things and long weekends
Of head highs and analogue eyes
Away from the screens and the mess of addiction
white skies mottled with rose coloured patches
Sewn together jeans with embroidered scratches
Chalk line to measure my affliction
The people I’m with won’t see my addiction.

and the whispy clouds
of this mind fall up again
i see you clearly

the sky is being stolen
so that so much human soup
can high rise
to live above one another
a hierarchy to whisper
in God's ear

sunlight fills the cracks
illuminated grouting

I see clouds skitter by
I'm a prisoner
jealous of their freedom
wishing I could fly

Before the day rears it’s head
And the sky turns blue
Mist meets cloud
And smiles are few

Like drifting thoughts
Drenched in a morning dew
The day rolls on
And the clouds do too.

But there’s a hole in this cloud
Where the sun breaks through
This lonely cloud
Yearns for you.

lately i find myself wanting to
close my hands around something that doesn’t exist
and it’s just as frustrating as it sounds.
i’m forever chasing castles on clouds
but settling for shingle roofs.

sky like combed smoke
unseasonably warm for mid November
carrying my coat
i wonder if winter depression
can be missed this year