quadrilingual post (english, italiano, magyar, română)
all the women in my life
I do not know to cry
are nestle so
in the absence and sometimes
they forget me out there
as an umbrella –
I write about them with caution
here on the edge of a book
I actually wanted written at least
one love poem –
and why should it be written? …
today no one reads
all are showing their wounds
left by the horses of Prince Charming
to the nights follows another night
and no one day is not lurking among…
flourished the spine of the book that
I hold in my arms from a life
from the land of absences come sometimes the letters
but always likely
someone is stealing
in my box is enormous spider
does not enter anything else
the drought hide one by one
the maps of the rains
sizzle a drop…
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