In a drawer, in a lot of memories, There's a picture that stands out in my memory. Framed by a border corroded by age, Displays a path in the forest, at the end of which I still hear your laugh transparent. In the clear, We made promises eternal, under the watchful eye of trees centenaries.
Whispers that grew in search of a blinding love, fed by dense moments. Entangling our bodies, absorbing impediments to smooth out them in our favour. Exhalations, flows of presences, exchanges of atmospheres. Over us the entire reach of our minds, integrating, loving and transforming endlessly. To expand up to dispel us, to be forgotten.
In an inside corner springs a feeling of fullness, now slightly already, What a day we went.