Good morning to those who

Big snow feb 2015   sink into this wild never-ending daylight;

Big snow feb 2015

breathlessly run, always expecting to stumble upon a wolf or a fox. A fairy, if only.

Big snow feb 2015

dance in the clearing or run after fireflies among the bushes, crazy for love;

Big snow feb 2015

never forget the transit of a fallen star;

Big snow feb 2015

while the morning moon is crumbling down,

Big snow feb 2015

stopping her futile wandering

 

Big snow feb 2015

to shape to my feeling, eventually.

 

Happy Valentine’s Day.

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The strong hour

the firmament

are you smiling already?

shows a primordial pattern

 

just see,

I tend to believe what you say

the stars in the strong hour

 

observation is an exercise

for steady hearts, eyes

need more solid bodies

 

over this tiny valley

(I’m reading in your diary)

the moon is slipping unnoticed,

only roots-equipped beings know

what is going on

and where

 

flames and ice

the transit of a celestial body

fuel

 

from this perspective

it isn’t worth the trouble

– a domestic injury, at most

 

So, let’s take this chain of events

(contemplation is a pastime for respectable mademoiselle)

some parsimony is preferable, I guess

 

metamorphosis is what I’m most afraid of:

memories lend themselves to misinterpretations

easy targets – they become

easy targets

– for moths

 

Interior - Varano de Melegari Castle, Parma - Italy
Interior – Varano de Melegari Castle, Parma – Italy

# 5

Shadowless

sprout opens

the gathering night

 

the mysterious source uncovered

(inside: pure memory)

waiting, still

 

dark figures murmuring

about the weak nature of things,

– listening

 

travelling light is important

(only a shade of melancholy)

they say

 

shadowless fingers don’t intertwine,

hardly stay on the right side

the stars

 

if they’re just masks with empty eyes

(pointing the finger)

who can explain for all that sky

the reason?

Giudecca Island, Venice - Italy
Giudecca Island, Venice – Italy

# 2

From this point on

Here is my collection of micro-fictions. In each post I’ll pencil a weird action, a character in precarious balance on the imagination, a theory soaked in a noxious environment.

It’s all here; the result of my imagination when not insufflated in spite of myself.

The thankless task of forcing the gate to elsewhere is left to the images.

No logic required. Just enjoy.

Laura 🙂