I gently knock before entering.

Woman. A bare and noteworthy soul. Sovereign of the dirtiest and most virgin thoughts of my mind.

You are white and red.

Purity and passion.

Sighs hover as if dreams ran too fast.

Collect the flowers of a sparkling meadow, of daisies blooming in the heat.

You speak.

With your eyes you speak of love, courage and persistence of thought.

You. That you make me savor the pleasure of pronouncing the word


which constantly turns to the meaning of elegance, uniqueness, desire ..

You are therefore a constant.

You are the thin red line that unites two souls near or far.
Sink your hand in my chest, wrap my heart. Make him hope.
My wings have been ripped off, losing them forever and now I am in pieces because I do not know how to climb up to fly again as before. I miss the drive towards Heaven. I terribly miss hugging him again. Now that I keep falling, who knows how I will do without their precious support? I just feel bad all over, especially in the heart that feels tired and empty. Confused and lost. Part of it has died out forever. Wandering on the ground aimlessly frightens me. What will become of Me? I will have to reinvent myself again, for the umpteenth time since I breathe. This is the only certainty I have at the moment.
The details make the difference as they eliminate any form of superficiality. The details make the purity and vulnerability of nature visible. The flower is an example of this. After all, the flower is like a human being whose beauty is just waiting to be grasped by those who will be able to love its details. Beyond any sign of superficiality. When the only reason is that everything is without a why.

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