I pull myself away
When i am attracted to the surface
Of event interpretation.
The visible tells a simplified picture
My mind and heart want to believe.
Investigative analysis and questioning
Come from my science core
That deep inside
January drives me to the unheard truth.
Tent and steaming,
Golden like the sun,
Fries condense joy of life and child-like behaviours.
Fingers are sticky,
oily stains on my dress,
And a bunch of fries
Like wedding bouquet
in my hands.
Spaghetti at the end of the adventure
In the evening of a Friday
With a bitter taste.
Sneaky but friendly
The pasta wraps me and my doubts
While the future holds a secret.
Invisible and hard,
The cold of this gorge reaches me
And swipes away
the comfort of this Sunday.
Nature touches me
and like a stream Refills my hands.
I am grounded by the drops
Of this rain with no reason
And purpose.
It is regular, yet unexpected and comfortable
Like a familiar face
that left long time ago
And is now back to wake you up.
In my mind, I wear slippers
all day long
while cruising the factory
and criticizing the dynamics of the office.
Slippers with fluff, slippers offering total protection
from those envious eyes and those inner critics
that only a warm tight hug can silence.
The inert sofa stands alone
In the sunny room
Waiting for me and my cup.
I am hugged by the grey fabric
while I surf
Those days and opinions
That left without leaving a message
But a deep mark.
