Mal d'Africa
Burn
breath tightens the brain.
blurs the clear memory gem.
Esco, looking for space, air
feeling I feel. In another pocket
topaz,
and even the caress of the wind.
I want to empty rooms,
wood, grass and absurdity.
Smooth surfaces and long distances,
covered with dry and speed.
emerged from the swirl of colors and diamonds,
gli occhi han preso fiato, le mani tremanti.
posso chiuderli, pensando ai falò,
aspettando il giorno in cui tornerò.
valeria