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dark chocolate

Amara rises shoes. All of a strap of cloth and rubber, which hardly understood by that hole should go in the foot.
the land of Bites scratch the skin, are caught there, where the ankle becomes a round, an outcrop of flat, half and half muscle and bone, like a stitch, begins to itch and redden the skin dark.
Amara can not suffer any discomfort from time to tickle. Might as well go barefoot through the path of the field and touch the ground with toes and heels, now that the sun sets and a freshness that regenerates climbs right into the bones.

The field is going through is a tall man with a long purple tie, a friend of his father. Amara passing by every morning to go to school Tiassalé. Sometimes it stops with his buddies and give them a hand to collect the seeds as long beak of a bird that adorns the cocoa trees. He stops for a while, an hour, at most two and then take the road to Tiassalé. At school there is just enough to have fun and get bored, then returns to the usual way and knows that if his friends will come too late will be back at work. Amara then tries to hurry so as to eat with them and stop at the field until evening.



the evening, however, is a season and a half is not made for the collection. The shadows of the trees ungainly stretch under the weight of cocoa beans. For insects is a party when the light tries to leave. The taunt the legs let it breathe a minute. Amara stirs a little, but just the beginning. Then the buzz s'abitua infesting pallets and blackened stones, which seem rather fast walking. The cocoa beans are getting ready to be collected. Amara knows that his friends will be there tomorrow, before the sun, to take care of that place. And then they think of sitting on the edge, even more savage side of a field not ordered. Listen to the sounds of the evening, the birds of the night they announce a blue sprinkles and corrupts the air.
Amara with the weight on the palms touching the floor and licks his hand dirty.

Land fed by humans would feed the men.

But that ground is crumbling in the hands of Amara, despite the heavy rains stillino salts sugar. The same land that feels under the tongue, he thinks in his child's head awake, harnesses his friends in the chain from planted seed becomes a thick paste into the cups of the big cities. They work at any time, except for this where you think the insects to replace the chatter. They fold their arms slender, climbing fast and prune the branches with a net strokes affecting the air like swords. Often they are not always the same. Increase and decrease as the termite mounds, where his father's friend with the purple tie requires it. But in Amara does not matter. It helps if you need to help. Then if the owner sees him away. And then he takes the road to Tiassalé.


trots barefoot and thinks of his friends, to the plantations of cocoa beans that at school they told him, instantly recognizable from space make his country.
Côte d'Ivoire, the teacher thundered from the stage of wood, is made of dark chocolate and unjust, but ivory and glitter. It claims that children from one day to disappear as if they were scrap, forced to be strong in the leaves of cocoa trees.
Chocolate, Amara has never tasted it. In fact he does not know that it is, but he does not mind that the aliens can easily identify them from their rotating planets.
Besides, his father says, chocolate is a sweet pastry, the food of the gods.

And my friends - it pays to himself - are better than the gods.

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Vignola in Rome: the shrine of St. Andrew

Jacopo Barozzi, called Vignola, one of the greatest architects of 500, has left unforgettable works and these should be counted among the small temple of San'Andrea located halfway between Rome's Piazza People and Ponte Milvio.

Pope Julius III had it built to the 1533 within the complex of his suburban villa villa Giulia, in remembrance of his flight from Rome. During the sack of Rome of mercenaries of Charles V, when he was still a cardinal, was one of the hostages and was probably intended to be executed.

He managed to flee the city on November 30, the day dedicated by the Church Apostle Andrew, brother of Peter.

The church is a central plan with elliptical dome with a window type of spa in the lateral lunettes. Its construction was used in the "stone" the gray stone of many churches in Florence, instead of the classic travertine. The architectural forms are inspired by the ancient mausoleum below.

The church that has a classical conception of space, is one of the most harmonious Roman buildings. Seems to be inspired by Bramante and from architectural point of view, despite its minute size, is an important witness in the synthesis of the humanities, with the centrally planned churches, and examples of places of worship in a longitudinal plan, its Counter-Reformation, the second half of the sixteenth century onwards.

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And 'when tomorrow
I find in me a pearl of the deep

a nut and a stone of destiny


is only half black the day after the disappearance of a trip

the place where they are now
memory remains in space and time

dream colored fireflies
all the sunrises and appearance of this world fades

fear the uncertainty itself is courage-courage-
say who empties his pockets

for the remainder of the day
hold close the only thing that counts:
my story and besides
let the wind carry it elsewhere

up there among the golden clouds
of those who are no longer

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The Abbey of Monte Oliveto Maggiore: the frescoes by Sodoma and Luca Signorelli

In the Siena area on a hill stands the majestic Abbey of Monte Oliveto, which is the pole order olive groves, which started in 1320, was approved by papal bull in 1344.

The founder of this order was Bernardo Tolomei which must also be the start of construction of this abbey is located in a secluded area, surrounded by woods with land cultivated with vineyards and olive trees.

The monastery complex is no different, however, for his church but especially for its three cloisters. Among these the most important one is more visible on the walls are beautiful frescoes by Luca Signorelli and Sodoma depicting the life of St. Benedict.

Luca Signorelli in 1497, he painted the entire wall at the entrance and Giovanni Antonio Bazzi known as the "Sodom" supplementing the other three walls in a very short time of three years starting in 1505: the year in which the Signorelli was commissioned to paint the cathedral of Orvieto. Two artists

completely different in character and deed, Signorelli, calm by nature, like the great painters of the detached, eccentric, moody, vindictive and spiteful the Sodom that these differences are compared in the frescoes of the Abbey of Monte Oliveto, where the imprint of austerity Signorelli is almost contrary to the vitality and vibrancy that Sodom was able to impress his painting.

in admiring the frescoes that tell the story of St. Benedict as a young party, on horseback, from Norcia to Rome, one is struck by the personality of Sodom, a character not very easy, quite eccentric who always paints on top even putting S. Benedict's side, a special character, but also so much fun to paint here and there the curious result of some particular quarrel between him and the Abbot, who had commissioned the work. For example, in

a fresco by Sodoma painted a horse with no front legs, this is one of the first teasing that the distinguished painter decided to do the abbot for difference of opinion, then made peace, but, meanwhile, remained despite the immortalized, continuing in 'see if they meet the frescos in the testimony of other more or less significant clashes between the two.

In the frescoes that highlight the life and miracles of S. Benedict emerges very often the temptation that puts a strain on both the tenacity of the Saints are the other characters such as depicted in the painting in which S. Benedict takes the religious habit and you see it - a hermit - in front of the cave where he will live in solitary prayer.

Other rooms still have the striking presence of art in past centuries: in particular, the refectory and the library with three naves, built on a design by Giovanni da Verona.

NB The first is from Sodom, while the second is by Luca Signorelli.

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Environment, commentary more or less black, epilogue. The mystique of the end

Arrested in Saint-Ouen, a man in his sixties, some Gallot.
was trying to inoculate its soldiers with anti-militarism.

[Félix Fénéon, Novels in three lines]

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The shrines in Naples

Rome, Genoa, Naples, Palermo and other Italian cities are still full of shrines that architectural structures of relatively small, with the practical function of house and protect the item is placed here.

The term derives from the Latin aedicula, diminutive of aedes ("temple") and then with the original meaning of "temple". Originally it was a miniature temple, which housed the statue or the depiction of a deity.

If you make a comparison, they have unique characteristics different from city to city. In Palermo

are located at the crossroads. Emerge from the alleys, the corners of the streets, the income of the historical buildings, pointing out the pagan soul of the city. In Rome are shown on street corners or inside buildings. In Genoa in 1846, talked about Charles Dickens, in "Pictures from Italy". Painted slate, marble or stucco simple, the altars facing the corners of the ancient medieval streets, in Genoa "alleyways."

Particularly interesting are the original and Naples in the first images appeared to protect houses and shops and, as in the Roman domus, before the image of a flame burning in a votive lamp. Walking through the old town and decumani often encountered small altars, tabernacles, colored boards, with figures of saints and Madonnas, and the poor expression of popular piety. Some are beautifully kept with flowers, lamps, others abandoned and blackened by time and the smoke from the garbage on fire. Each of these temples has its own story.

Among these is appropriate to mention the small chapel of Saint Anthony in Mergellina, where each years there is a procession that starts from the Sanctuary of Posillipo, reached the pier fishermen. The tabernacle of Porta San Gennaro with frescoes by Mattia Preti.

Among the oldest are still remembered by the two shrines dedicated to the neighbor across the patron saint of Naples, Via Ponte della Maddalena, designed by Ferdinando Sanfelice. Beautiful

are finally at the heart of the Crucified Orefici Piazzetta and the other on the ramps of San Giovanni Maggiore.

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Light inside




light on the pond will cause cascades of sparks


The pond is what remains when
look the other way, away from
YOUR thoughts,
the illusion of others' states of being

light instead
is the focus of your eyes, the constant presence of
you

sparks are
your deepest emotions

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Istanbul, a city memorable!

Istanbul is a unique city: its enchanting landscape of a city that unfolds in Europe and Asia via the Bosphorus Bridge linking Europe with Asia, the wealth of Byzantine churches and mosques, the beautiful colors of the city are all elements that makes Istanbul unique and representative of a number of cultures.

At Istanbul's mosques, there are of any size and bill and the whole city, in the hours of prayer is pervaded by the repeated invocation of the muezzin.

The largest and most famous mosque in Istanbul is the "Sultan Ahmet Camii" built between 1609 and 1616 and known as the Blue Mosque for the characteristic deep blue of the tiles inside. The

"Suleymaniye Camii" instead brings the name of Sultan Suleiman, known as "magnificent" and stands impressively on the hill in the central district of Beyazit.
The place of worship is surrounded by a large square, almost entirely surrounded by walls, near which line up several buildings that were helpful to the community, such as hospices, hospitals and schools.
features are not only the mosques, museums and the charm of the Orient Express but also its markets that run throughout the city.
The grand bazaar of Istanbul is one of the oldest and largest covered markets of world, a veritable cave of treasures, such as Aladdin. It 'made of streets overflowing with stalls are sold carpets, bedding, textiles, leather manufactures, clothing, souvenirs, hookah, souvenirs, handmade pottery, etc..
Another market which is worth going to the Egyptian market in Istanbul, which is the spice market in Istanbul and the best place to buy tea, spices, dried fruits, nuts and seeds, and lokum (the typical turkish sweet)
Another thing to do is take a boat trip on the Bosphorus. During the walk you will admire interesting palaces, forts, traditional Ottoman houses made of wood, and the huge bridge over the Bosphorus principal and the Fatih Sultan Mehmet Bridge, both routes between the two continents, riding on this majestic city.

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Central Park in New York

You can not talk without focusing on the New York Central Park, the green lung of the American metropolis.

This is a large park located in the district of Manhattan to be exact in Uptown in the middle between the two neighborhoods. Upper West Side and Upper East Side who take their name from their position in relation to the park.

But what has this important green oasis for residents who live in the skyscrapers of Manhattan surrounding?

And yet, what's different compared to other parks in the major capitals of the world?

It 's really different from others because it was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted and opened in 1856 with the intent to create a fun environment and at the same time rational, that is able to influence a certain behavior by fostering communication and participation common to civilian life.

The inclusion in the park also has roads that connect various parts of the city is an innovative new product. And I think if possible at a lower level of the green so as not to be visible and not to alter the perception continues natural scenery.

Thus, there is a vision of urban public parks that are considered the various aesthetic, sanitary and economic impact of course on the costs of building the surrounding areas.

For these reasons, Central Park is not far removed from the urban context, but on the contrary it is fully inserted and integrated into the overall system, thus representing a new way of philosophy of the landscape. Inside, there are currently several artificial lakes, extensive trails, two ice rinks always artificial, children's playgrounds, fields used for many sports. The park is a haven for migratory birds and is therefore popular among birdwatchers. The road 9.7 km long around the park is frequented by cyclists, joggers and people roller skaters, especially on weekends when wireless transit cars.

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The Island of St Louis in Paris

One of the highlights of Paris and the Ile de la Cite where there is the famous cathedral of Notre Dame.

Much less said about the Ile St Louis which is the smallest of the islands and the city's natural which is located within walking distance of Notre Dame, which is connected to the island mate through the bridge of St Louis

Originally the two islands of Paris were joined together. In the fourteenth century, King Charles V wanted to open a canal (rue Poulletier) to separate the zone from the abandoned building on the island, in order to strengthen the defensive walls of the royal palace.

The two islands became known as Ile Notre-Dame (now Ile de la Cité) and Ile aux Vaches (now Ile St. Louis).

In the seventeenth century, at the behest of King Louis XIII, the area was deserted island Ile aux Vaches urbanized with elegant buildings in eighteenth-century style.

In 1726 the island got its current name of Ile St. Louis. Some historic buildings on the island, such as the Hotel Lambert, are now private residences. A walk along its quiet streets can breathe and live the old atmosphere of the late eighteenth century.

E 'amenno a place that strikes visitors for its charm and is situated where The Church of Saint-Louis-en-l'Île. The church was designed by the court architect Louis Le Vau, who lived on the island. It was started in 1664 and was completed and consecrated in 1732.
baroque interior is the sword of St. Louis with the sword of the Crusaders.

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So is the Law


do what thou wilt shall be the whole law

Arrange ideas in a square where each side is

the extension of a project, your project

but as the expression
creative fills the corners of the pain in me there is
borders, dams
soul that I can not give up
worth the lack of gravity and the razor sharp mind


least that's how you live? Yes, that is the law

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Swing Rossana back and forth, obediently following the hammock of prayer.
The small church overflowing, cars do not pass out almost. No one dares to go beyond the limit implicit progress. Thronged to the bottom and leave the empty nave as a sign of respect, distance, fear.
The rhythmic chant of the rosary hearts as a quiet evening morphine. Men's minds asleep, and accompanies the eyelids to deflate like a balloon naked towel.

not remember much that night Ross. He sat outside the church of San Galvin, with the fence behind her ass and ice cream on the stone steps of bare soil only at close range.
She had a couple of glasses at home, one after the other, seem to at least have the energy needed to meet arms around the others. But then we had made and had waited for the ringing of bells announced the beginning of the rosary. He carefully listened to the howling of dogs long irritated by the melody. Then she moved. Fell in the yard with a heavy head. The church reached staggering.
And had preferred not to enter.



The air is cold and sharp in March. Moves below the legacies of winter.
sleet and all around is filled with flakes of ice.
The stars of snow Ross calls. The perfect geometry of crystals. Water vapor thronged behind the germs. It forms a sculpture that stirs the thoughts of Plato, who sees all sides.
's called diamond dust on Wikipedia . But Ross is concerned is not always true, and asks the people to be sure. Misplaced confidence in common sense.
Coca has more or less the same magic, rare and revolutionary.
No common progress, no comfort. But it is beautiful, a Sunday, when you take your car and swim across the ring roads.

-What the fuck are you looking at? - Miranda's screams on the floor below the stairs and attacks with hairdryer. Ross did not respond. He does not want to be criticized by the noise, as always talking with her head tilted to the bathroom. Miranda insists. Detach and reattach the plug and demand. Reluctantly, Ross gets up from the couch, down the stairs and opens the refrigerator.
-Nothing. I watched one after the other Tg-He tells her shoulders looking for something to drink.
Ros-do not go out tonight? Do not you think it's time to move from someone, you see a little 'out?
-I do not give a shit.
-The people you are not visited at home by Ross, he's afraid of the pain of others - and attacks with hairdryer, damn.
-I'm fine by me, with nothing around-silenced by the noise, responding through gritted teeth and makes a generous splash of vodka with herbs. No one hears but her throat. His blood alcohol response to defibrillation.
-E do not complain later if you're alone and nobody comes to visit. Once I was in a church, a good part of the Church in this city of shit. It was a meeting place for young, full of people. Read parts of the Bible and then you say you do and how.
not listening Fucking Ross, a fuck.
-Miranda that all about?
-What was I saying?
Ross shakes his head and poured another glass of vodka.
-Della Chiesa. What I have to go out and knock door to door to people who know me and say "yes, I am, that my father died, that does nothing so that my mother had died and there are already over, you takes a little 'Then you leave it well, do not worry and yes of course, the recovery I left that tied the bike to the station not knowing that he would not return home alive this Thursday night - this time gripping the neck of the bottle and ends vodka was on the bottom.
Miranda smooth hair all straight and left them dry for a full minute. Meanwhile, talks and you do not understand anything.
Ross is lying on the ground near Miranda and down the naked body, soft and clear. In March, the whiteness becomes the disease, which fixes the peak of summer colors. The neon light in the bathroom does not make them justice. Ankles dead skin cells are gradually letting more light and fine. Blame the chlorine of the pool, Miranda goes there every day early in the morning, when the lanes are free and courses have not started yet. So disinfects from head to toe every day who decides to live. If you feel that it's worth, not rises, not eating, not swimming. Stay in bed all day, turn off the phone, does not warn anyone, and hangs off the plug without warning. Rossana caresses her ankle and kisses her toes.
Miranda smiles with eye bags in the eye and the red-faced to the upside. Then he makes a clumsy jump and bounce the nozzle of the hairdryer on the face of Ross that almost do not even feel.

-I said, I said Rossana here! That at one point the priest says something to the microphone. A fucking thing I remember to this day. That pure evil and suffering to someone is the greatest feeling alone. That man needs to hear, list, touch, speak, or at least appoint other men. That loneliness is worse than cancer. And you get sick by dint of being alone. Oh, and I agree you know? So it's' out, go find your brother as I know, take a walk by the parties the cobblestones.
-Come Miranda. Let's Make Love.
Ros-please, not the time. You smell of alcohol and do not you take a bath by the day. You promised me you would clean the common areas and you have SODDING. Let me finish the bathroom. I have to go to the theater with Clara. If you want to give yourself a system and is with us.
Ross turns away. He shakes his fists in the heat under the belly.
not spend five minutes that Miranda feels heavy breathing.

Ross does not believe in ghosts.
Nor that we are all equal.
Leaning against the pole to the bus stop down the her father's bike tied across the street. Miranda lives with a couple of months and want every day with the same force when it shared the same room. He wanted to tell his father to what was now full of her. And to what he felt sloppy and without any goal beyond her.
-Ross, when you are full of love for someone else is bright and helpful.
He had once told him, in front of a cigarette.
-I are off, burned with the death of your mother. I can not hear you. I'm empty, unable to accept other people's feelings because I have more than mine. I can not put myself in the shoes anyone.
Ross nodded. And he had embraced. At that moment she had longed to be burned and emptied to feel like him, able to understand and advise. But it was not, and had not wasted breath nor energy to look.

The bike does not seem to suffer the ravages of time and even if the wings for nearly one third is rusty, the handle and the luggage rack gleam in the sunlight, giving it a rare elegance. Ross now has the keys to open the lock and take her home. Do not know if his father has a duplicate somewhere and did not bother to look for the keys from their pockets on the day of the accident. There were no keys in the affections personal that had been returned. If you have lost in the subway, before the accident, it can not know.

No one seems to look after the bike over to her. He shrugs and decides to return home. He does not want to see anyone, not yet. You walk along Corso Cavour, holed up on the sidewalk of controviale. Avoid the downtown streets, the cobblestones, the pedestrian area. Do not turn on the phone for almost twelve days and people do not do is leave messages. Not a week passes without Miranda does not come back with some message for her. At work the two weeks granted to stop, to recover and get back in better shape than before. Miranda told her because she does not read even more the e-mail messages. The idea of \u200b\u200bhaving to reconnect to the shared world puts heavy and moody. Bold of unread sms of I called not interested at this time. Actually you do not feel less lonely than before. It just feels more clear, that yes. We are not all alike, is repeated. You feel alone otherwise. Those who more easily dig under the bark hard. She's got the loneliness living on the skin. Then, after a bit 'you get used to, does not feel anything anymore.

Daily Ross made a detour to the station. Check that the bicycle is in place, the seat cover if it rains. The talks, if it is one of those mornings when vodka has gone before. It seems if doing well, does not seem to do despite the throat anyone has repainted the fenders with a white enamel milk.
For some time people have stopped leaving messages. Miranda also has run an accomplice who may be fed up by dint of rolling between her and the rest of the world. Did, however, read aloud a letter that seemed to be important. The offices of Comec are a bit 'in trouble and must cut back on staff. Still be entitled to six months, as per contract. Then the relationship will be severed. Please, therefore, to present as soon as possible during office hours. Will be delivered the CUD and other documents within its jurisdiction.
-What about Ros? My diction is not by leaps and bounds?
Ross nods, perhaps lacking a bit 'strong voice, but seem to vowels and consonants.
-vocal setting is a problem my dear. I know, the entry must be stopped, statuary. Property out like the wings of a gull.
Miranda looks at her and re-read inflating his shoulders.
-Then relationships are severed. Please, therefore, to present as soon as possible during office hours. Will be delivered the CUD and other documents within its jurisdiction.
-Best. You can still exercise.
Ross gets up from the couch. Miranda kisses while focusing, the halyard back raises and tilts his chin to the sky, as if to help the voice to come out happy.

is Tuesday. Market day.
Today Miranda does not get up from bed. He decided that it is a day wasted and do not want anyone to throw open the shutters of the attic. Screams like a possessed when Ross move the tent and leans close to the glass to watch the weather.
-Damn close it. Just shut up, he says sleepily. Then she nestles under the armpit and Ross feels the heat and the breath of those who alternates unconscious wakefulness to deep sleep. -Stay in bed with me today Ros.
reflects Ross, has nothing to do. Only lift the seat cover to the bike, useless with the sun that saw the glass.
-Okay the whispers, I remain. But I need a drink, I have a dry mouth and a headache. Ross goes downstairs, pour one, two, three glasses of sparkling water. He bought Miranda to drink less. Bring the bottle over and leans close to the vodka that is on the table and helps sleep. Then he gets back under the sheets torn. Must be changed, he says to himself. He closes his eyes and hears Miranda stroke her belly.

is evening hours that are not moving there. The sun has had time to go to leave her alone to establish the post empty. I do not know what to do but wait. His father would have smoked a whole pack of Camels. And then he would go and buy another, pass the time and the cold. Moving, soul, and stretch my legs.
Rossana not smoke, not the vice that's right for you. We are not all equal. Everyone has a dress, a color, a defect which suits him more than others. The bicycle of his father is gone, the ground verdigris cut off the chain. A few butts, fossils of cement. Nothing more.

March threw out the cold at night that keeps hidden during the day.
Rossana fiddles with the key to the bike in the pocket of his blue coat.
it to him on his father's key. - Suppose I lose tonight good train and arrive late, do not want to leave the station, you know that here too steal the bikes.

Now that the bike is no more loneliness comes upon all at once. Sitting at the table with his jacket and looks at the key in his pocket Rossana Miranda while chewing the salad.
My father hath been thrown under the subway, there fell Miranda.
Miranda stares at all surprised. - What's new Rossana, they wrote all the papers -.
-I do not have no bed. I understand now.
Miranda peers in the silence. Then he gets up and hugs her.

The moment of Death is not the end of life but the beginning of not being. When Ross is sitting there inert in the hands of Miranda chokes and no longer knows who he is. If it is.

But she's confusion, pain or love.
not alone.
-We are not all equal, Miri.

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Paris and the Statue of Liberty

When you think of the Statue of Liberty, the thoughts turn inevitably to New York, to his island full of immigrants seeking the American dream. In fact, right there stands the entrance to the harbor on the Hudson River, on Liberty Island Rocky the symbol of the American metropolis and the entire United States of America. This powerful high statue depicting me 93 a woman wearing a long robe and holding a torch in his hand was designed by René Édouard de Laboulaye, built in Paris and designed by Frederic Auguste Bartholdi and built by Gustave Eiffel. The statue, as is known, was donated by the French to the United States of America and transported to New York where he was inaugurated in 1886.

The Statue of Liberty, however, not only in New York admire because navigating the Seine in Paris, you are suddenly in front of the Statue of Liberty located near the bridge in the Ile de Cygnes Grenelle. This is a copy of the homonymous New York and is a gift that the U.S. did to France to celebrate the centenary of the French Revolution in 1889. It 's done in scale and measuring a fourth part of the original, with a height of 11 meters and is oriented towards its "sister" in the United States.

So we are faced with a reciprocity of gifts.

Another copy is on a smaller scale in the Romantic gardens of Luxembourg in the same city with statues and monuments as lush trees and plants. Walking in the countryside you can see many of these sculptures, such as small-scale reproduction of the statue of liberty (for the original model), the statue of Beethoven, The Horse's Mouth, the bust of Charles Baudelaire, and dozens of other reproductions of characters famous French historians and rulers of the past.

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14. ART



... transmutes all entirely in the image of your will,
taking everything in its true sign of perfection.
Dissolve the Pearl in the cup of wine; drink, and make manifest the Virtue of
the Pearl. "

In a place far from here there are shares that
as messages on waves back to us after
having traveled many light years,
in this case only one, but the splendor dazzles as
arrowhead
thrown by someone.

believe the case? no, this is the case for believing in me.

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silent events


are not the striking mountains of conceit
or the plains of applause in your circle of friends
but the intuition of an eternal moment of joy

is the taste of the wind that turns you into something


not cancel it again with your narrow thinking
but left to live

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The Milky Way



Dreams
as milk teeth fall happened in the streets of this Florence


images to drink in the eye of the beholder

fun and different in logical

rivers men who dream ...
who would have thought?

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House of abstract words



a house without rooms without walls without corridors
limited only by words as possible
is a picture without a frame

each visitor to leave a thought to sing to celebrate

is a thrill to be impossible
that materializes that creates a word with different meanings

memory of iridescent colors and sounds ..

.. moments ..
fractions of seconds .. ..
lives hung in abstract terms