Translated from the original Italian by Julia Anastasia Pelosi-Thorpe
Nothing flimsier, nothing easier:
time is lost if I believe we’ll have time
to count all happiness’s forms.
I follow the ocean picture on the screen: it separates us
it’s cold, at every pivot of birds
your body and mine can be transformed.
Tonight the ocean touched your stomach because you
a strange Europe stroked my back.
I press my face, the figure of your face
Creatures, fire traces.
You were marking first letters on the wall.
I’ve thought of you a braid in flame
unfurls violet, falls layer after layer.
We’ll cross time like icons on the background
without frame time: creatures
that cannot be spoken
that overcome you.