L’ho guardata a sua insaputa: sorpresa, instabile, assente, rilassata e nuda. Il suo corpo ha un segreto.
Un segreto che avrà il nome di un astro, i miei occhi e le sue mani.
Il letto emana tepore di corpi, di sacro amore. La Santa Famiglia è lì sopra.
Tutto prende significato: her alone in our bed, leaving his compound, the white sheet that lights up, the picture on the wall that comes to life, in my space and my time.
She is a nymph, a creature from another era, as poetic as it is real.
My horizon is changed, it takes the form of that beautiful body, looked after him in a long and tender caress.
In the light vibrating in the morning, everything is hazy, I'm looking inside me, sitting in the chair, while the bells I wake up playing a festival: it's Sunday.
Un segreto che avrà il nome di un astro, i miei occhi e le sue mani.
Il letto emana tepore di corpi, di sacro amore. La Santa Famiglia è lì sopra.
Tutto prende significato: her alone in our bed, leaving his compound, the white sheet that lights up, the picture on the wall that comes to life, in my space and my time.
She is a nymph, a creature from another era, as poetic as it is real.
My horizon is changed, it takes the form of that beautiful body, looked after him in a long and tender caress.
In the light vibrating in the morning, everything is hazy, I'm looking inside me, sitting in the chair, while the bells I wake up playing a festival: it's Sunday.
Kristjan, Tartu
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