by these forgotten suburban ways
sometimes you look back and you realize
that the shape in your shadow is not yours
is not you
you are not
and even your thoughts no longer know how to talk
and explain that
the switch is almost never near the light
and that's when, taking your fears by the hand
you learn again to savor the good taste of darkness,
of silence and absence
that in the void they quench your heart
as in summer a fresh sip of water under the sun
Marco Bo