Italy and Poetry

Open my heart and you will see,
Graved inside it, Italy.
– Robert Browning

“Current”
Fibers,
flesh. Electricity

transudes through a
sigh.

Sun-bordered clouds migrate from
your eyes to my core:

swooshing of curtains, temples
like drums.

Hypnotic pulsations mark lines
between dreams

and life, as
time contracts in us.

And with the last loud blink
of a light bulb,

the shadows withdraw,
and kaleidoscopes convulse.
-Anna Piutti

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