La parola da casa, Serena Piccoli

what loyalty remains
fades as you speak
and i see visions
of roads leading through
the darkness into
outlawed spaces where
not even the dead stray
and where
the future sits before me
on a globe glowing
read by a screaming
muse broken by years
of crying vainly into
the abyss in front of her

what i see is not pleasant
no words
cover the spiral
that leads to the center
and no guide
waits among the shades
to lead me through
into the lofty phantasm
that sends me burning
back to your voice.


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