we were there at the end of the light,
watching the stars blink open wide like sleep-eyes.
the dark a cloak of protection against the ugly world.
ma il mondo è un bel posto

nobody feels the way i feel in this moment
I find it pleasant to forget the feeling of a man,
a touch on my dry skin-
skin hanging from bone loose like silk pajamas.
io sono io sono io sono

i milk each moment like bees on pollen in ruined orchards
the honey isn’t sweet anymore.
is is black tar that smells like nostalgia and the dust of abandonment,
like summertime sex, sex and sadness and sun.
non ho un cuore è vuoto  è molto vuoto

if i can’t feel then i can’t love you anymore
maybe if I amputate my heart the world will fall away.
like the stars, I blink and blink until empty-
the light is artificial and unmoving.
non mi piace me stessa. non  è importa.

if they find it, let them keep it
there is no race, no ending, the beginning itself is unspecified.
it’s not wrong to wish for something better
and your hands aren’t warm anymore.
per favore, vai.

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