Just Maybe Forse Ciao

In certi occhi ci sono manciate di Pan Di Stelle, quelli che si è ricordato di comprare perché sa che col vino rosso io penso stiano bene e che poi mi mancano a Londra. E nei suoi occhi ci sono manciate di Pan Di Stelle, che quando inizi a mangiarli, un po’ troppo dolci direbbe lui, ma io ci sento il cacao e il burro e quel retrogusto di comfort che non posso smettere di mangiarli finché non finisco tutto il pacco.  E poi portava quegli occhiali, sotto la lampada troppo luminosa per quella stanza con le pareti color salmone e con le mani che si muovevano sulla mia pelle mentre io stavo li seduta su di lui di fronte a lui a dire cose che a mai nessuno avrei detto. Che forse, quegli occhiali, mi sono sembrati confermare quel che per tutto il pomeriggio avevo già sentito e pensato. Quel senso di essere imbottigliati insieme tra quattro mura e d’improvviso conoscersi a fondo ma non nel contorno, come se in quella stanza tutto quello che ci girava intorno ci si attaccasse addosso e...

The preparation rituals are always the same She thinks while packing the lingerie, the dress he likes and the smiles she cannot hide anymore The expectations, these times, are shared, for once, she thinks.  The need to feel the bruises, this time, have been voiced.  The need for dropping salt on the still open wounds and bear the pain if necessary. She feels like they can, while she adds yet another song to the playlist And she chuckles as she feels that kick inside Not butterflies but powerful wings that remind her of something distant and yet so primitive and rooted in her. The preparation rituals might always feel the same,  But still this time something more elusive is going on.  She thinks that this time she should be cautious even more Because the elusiveness of love has hurt her before. And so did the fire, and so did the flames that burn out too soon.  Even if he says and does all the right things Someone sweet ...

It's not like you think it is.  It is not like that scenario your head has created  as a fort for you to hide behind that you cannot shake off. It's not like you are a secret. It's not like you must remain hidden  to avoid altering the fake  but already established  equilibrium  he doesn't like anymore  but he cannot leave as the prisoner who loves the prison he also hates.  It's not like he had a life, a proper life you know nothing about with a proper distribution of roles and a proper love and a proper plan before meeting you. It's not like you will never compare to that life  it's not comparative poverty what you are feeling. It's not like before meeting you    he knew himself and enjoyed being disjointed and now he is rather lost.  It's not like he is bewitched by you only because you are sexy that way and you feed his unspoken fantasies. It's not that he wouldn't ca...

There is something gold about him. this Fluid Man, this Secret Man, this Freewheeling Man.  C'è dell'oro in lui quest'uomo fluido, quest'uomo segreto, quest' uomo a ruota libera. His veracity is disarming.  All his mental processes are turbulent as they are candid and produce  the kind of honest light gold is made of. La sua veracità è disarmante.  Tutti i suoi processi mentali sono turbolenti quanto sono candidi e producono quel tipo di luce onesta di cui è fatto l'oro.  She watches the way his eyes smile  together with his lips laughing  and she is disarmed. For a while, she doesn't have to fight.  Not with him. Osserva, lei, il modo in cui i suoi occhi sorridono mentre le sue labbra ridono ed è disarmata.  Per un po', non deve combattere. Non con lui. The hidden things about him the way he uses the suspension points in texts to catch his own thoughts before he can even say them, ...