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Perché attraverso il silenzio c’è tanto da sentire ..

There was some sort of monastic silence in the air… I lit a cigarette in attempt to release the inexplicable state of being so hypnotically attached to the hands gently caressing my hair.

His breathing had the rhythm of Linus…a gasp of forbidden delight of an imperfect god who found a refuge in me…

Those were my careless impulses…for which I endured the painful absence of words ,and left my cigarette smouldering in peace…

sarkasmos !

*Charcoal sketch