Snowflake on your left hand
not unique, not special,
not of snow, not a flake,
but of ink, and blood.
Snowflake on your left hand
not melting, not of ice,
not erasable, not cold,
but beautiful, and sad.
Snowflake on your left hand
not of winter, not of spring,
not appropriate, not in place,
but invisible, and gone.
Snowflake on your left hand
never falling, never fallen,
not of white, not of simple,
but irregular, and blue.
Mi ero completamente dimenticata dell’esistenza di questo blog.
Tanta, troppa polvere.