Red cachemire


JB, 2017


You paint using so sinuous thoughts
every night all my night and my skin
quivers, trembles and asks for caresses
as she was still young and gets upset

Spring is trap and a danger for minds,
it’s a fire, it’s as scattered poppies
like the blood of a young woman when
she surrenders and gives her to love

In the winter I wanted my bed
red and I doodle my unsure dreams
every dawn as in cashmere designs
when you go far and I think alone

I don’t fulfil you, you don’t to me, neither
it’s enough this flesh for the immense wish
that you open wide as the blue does
when it breaks the clouds and at last shines


May, 9th 2017


Italian version


Poppies 2 – Joy



Poppies fire burns among grey green grasses
like a life taken by beauty and passion.
I’m inflamed now by running ardour
No tree knows such a red alive flesh

May, 21st 2015


Italian version here

Poppies 1 – Sadness



Bloody poppies at the dried road border
are thin lives with no flavour substances
laughters are as well cries among grasses.

No tree knows how hard is my short life

May, 21st 2015

Italian version here.