Ataraxia

Maybe-o'-the leaves

Ataraxia
In a regularity from flowers
your face has been blown under a skin
-is it mine ?-
flowing and restless Clori
- scarletminded echoes -
of savanas ruining
the wordly voice of
keep-quite- please!
announce the lightning melodious void
of your existence for me
-naughty forbidden Filli!-
and allmighty thrilling
maybe-oh-the leaves
of the neverending Daphne...

Mara Paltrinieri

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