word for word I’m writing my book,
making my costumes and playing me
the best I can
I think I am rather good
remembering all those lines that could
have once made a difference
when sunsets felt real,
beyond their damaged magnetic fields
I sang, I danced, I concurred
and when my sword bent from its knees
and I couldn't cry any more
I walked on burning coal through the icy rain
to embrace the forgotten
t’was war as we knew it
a thousand fears in a jar
labelled ‘eau de thè’
a cloud blown over our heads by no man's wind
and still turned the world that we knew
and all that you were
your wrist
tossing a thousand pancakes
your lips
blowing a thousand kisses in a row
your nights
holding my silhouette
amongst a thousand faces
I have no more use for this shield
or this sword
whoever gave them to me
can take them back
I hold myself hostage to
a thousand years of peace
Si aprono i colori del quadro sensitivo
con le luci inebrianti scaldate nel pastello
ed il cuore legge con tono emotivo
in lingua materna la legenda del castello.
Le frecce affilate delle zanne affamate
che si rifflettono nel loro vero specchio
si sente il odore di gocce profumate
e ancora il desiderio di un amore vecchio.
do you follow rainbows to the end of the road
and pretend they end with a screech of the breaks
or perhaps you miss the train and convince yourself that
you were on the wrong platform or you were there just
waving someone goodbye
do you receive flowers from people you never loved
and your ‘thank you’ is the discorded key of a piano
in the middle of a concert
do you make someone cry and comforting them is a trembling hand
a surgeon never shows the world
do you etcetera your list of to do’s into a painted oblivion
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