What's The Value Of My Old Soda Bottles

was like dancing on a dream ill-tamed.

There was only the restless frenzy of scattering in the lake.
become food for the wishes. Fall in love with the wind that steals the memories.
I wanted to reconstruct, in that moment I just wanted to get away from myself and be more, another subject, another body, any body, but not mine, please do any other dummy shake and devastate but my stupid flesh burning in a mad dance. Insana.
Because his memory was ill. In the silence that devoured
fears simulated awkward hugs that I have ever known, m'illudevo docezza to hear her on my skin. I lost myself in this fiction, I played with this dream too distracted and too thin, m'aggrappavo this suicide of love with the same force with which she spat me to life.
At that moment I wanted to cancel and become just a dancing body and tear off the pain, dancing until imaginary that sweetness had stuck into the skin, penetrated deep into the flesh to wound. Would come into circulation in blood and I would be contaminated. Poison me, I wanted to.