I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer. F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby



I worked for a very long time in an Irish pub. I still go there frequently: my boyfriend is the successful manager. Yes, I could sense your thoughts at the second line, you might have thought I like my Guinness too much. That is the nature of Irish pubs, besides being the best place for … Continue reading S.

Number 21

Finches melting, the knot of longing arms, band now my waist, squeeze me with your care. Barefoot, I am riding the glass line of the Equator. pour me wine, let me clean the corner of your chest, you did not bring any armor. Turn my face, point at my lobe, suck out the thoughts about … Continue reading Number 21

Numero 28

Ti penso mentre quest'areo discende, infrange l'immensità di bianco fuori al finestrino, il ronzio delle turbine mentre planiamo verso le chiese barocche, sotto quella canzone che ascoltavo poggiata sulla tua clavicola. Ti penso e con te il ricordo della strada battuta di fronte al cancello di casa tua, quel giorno che avevo paura ci saremmo … Continue reading Numero 28