così
morimmo nel soffio di vento,
in un bacio,
per non rivestirci di nude parole
al risveglio;
così
guardammo negli occhi,
tremanti,
per non ricoprirci di vane parole
al risveglio;
così…
la mia testa è il mio rifugio
così
morimmo nel soffio di vento,
in un bacio,
per non rivestirci di nude parole
al risveglio;
così
guardammo negli occhi,
tremanti,
per non ricoprirci di vane parole
al risveglio;
così…
Pubblicato in Poeticherie e resistenze poetiche
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