Smoke rings from your lips
fading into mine,
distant journeys into the blue
and eager hands
to weave webs of dreams and fears.
Grey city streets
light up as you walk by them
and the heart beats fast,
while you quickly fill the pages
with words born from a daze
and meadows of laughter and tears.
The music played to the rhythm of the heart
and the feet followed trails
traced by your dreams,
ebony drumsticks on cymbals of youth
measured the time
she taught us
to understand who we were
and what would have remained
of the time and space
in our soul.
She who passed from your lips to mine
hiding among the threads of those webs,
who travelled with us in the light
of ivory towers
was stomped, spent, abandoned,
before being reborn from the ashes
and from your lips.
Al di là del mare, Dialoghi DiVersi/Beyond the Sea, 2018
~ Anna Ciardullo Villapiana ©