Always You

In the dark and dispersed night, among the most solitary crowd and chaos,

thundering flashes of lightning, coming from nowhere and everywhere,

penetrate my look leaving me dazzled and confused;

booming noises of sounds of different colours pierce my hearing,

abandoning me alone, dazed and deafened.

I feel the floor warm of the fumes, of the dry rain, of the filthy

under my naked feet and in the meantime a cloack of cold air enshrouds me,

a bristly air that comes into my skin, into my muscles, into my bones,

freezing all me.

Lost in my numb body, in my misty consciousness,

in my strenght elapsing, I stagger holding on to

what I find: a dark lamp, a viscid banister,

my shoulders bent by pain.

I meet persons in front of me, behind me, and among  thrusts of anger,

of bothers, of nausea, I knock down but I haven’t the strenght to rise

and I surrender to the confusion of the sensor stimuli of this

loneliness of the future.

I just look up and I observe faces of the persons hurriedly

vanishing, fleeting, from my reality, but I can’t see you, the only face

I look for in the large crowd of individuals and that probably

sleeps soundly, enshrouded by the wadding of his indifference.