Poetry

The solitude of poetry, the solitude of the years. The poetry of solitude, the years of solitude. The weight of the years like a self-denial of threads in crucifixion. The sea without owner. The vacuum of poetry, the vacuum of life. The poetry of vacuum, the life of vacuum. The weight of your dead like…

Inside of you

I was so inside of you that I know your heartbeat, I know how you are inside, and I still can’t understand how hour heart fits in your breast. I was inside of you, while you were giving me life even before it had started. I was so inside of you that I learned by…

I just wish//

When my pale skin touched yours, and the heat of my body was enough to shield us both from your coldness, I wish you found it soothing like I did. When your dark brown eyes looked at mine, I wish you didn’t look away before I did. When I hugged you, I wish you wrapped…

Nothing is…

Nothing is obvious, everything changes. Nothing is notorious, you find many angels who reach for the glorious, rescuing many strangers. Nothing is ever quite what it seems, maybe you’ll never wake up from dreams. You must be clever, don’t take extremes.   By Luca Arnaldo Read more texts by this author

Sentranced.

Sentranced: Captivated by a beautifully written sentence.   I want to devour the words from the pages, until it is not blood in my veins, but your words; till they fill me up, and make me feel alive; till I become the words I read. But, I’m just left staring at the pages, over and over…