i’d like to be part of a stolen photo
i’d like to be the charming stranger in somebody’s dream
turn myself in the mirror and see the person I desire instead of me
i’d want endless sunny days and i’d want Time to split up over and over again in pleasure parts I could taste uninterruptedly
hear me breathing sometimes, there’s a melody into body sound, and it’s singing in a low voice
and it’s smiling with its eyes, and it’s never tired
i’d like to be someone’s wrong ideal, love at first sight that upset you, and you won’t forget it anymore
because you will never have the nerve to abet it
i’d like to feed on just drinking faces and expressions and reading some redness on a forbidden pleasure face
snail and insatiable lizard and night-perversion every other day
and rather than symbiosis, an avowed parasitism mutual and cannibal between brain and instinct
it’s cruel games in declared anguish of life
a voluptuous regret
a boring happy memory
a not declared pleasure restrained under bedspread for shame
an organic taste too much easy to remember but vaguely indecent to declare
forgiveness for bad actions that will come
forgiveness for the memory I already have about myself
it’s easy to close the eyes and it’s painful to open them back again on account of too much light
and more, i’d like to be the simple joy in someone who sees a forsaken toy and he’s afraid and he’s desiring to appropriate
i’d like to be the first redness colouring the skin in an april day, the first ecstatic colour taking possession of a dried skin
an old woman’s eyes smiling slowly unworried who waves just to greet
and well i’d like to be every single thing man doesn’t catch yet
