by Marcello Comitini In every petal of this rose that stands out on the long and thorny stem the scents of the garden are reflected. She offers herself entirely to the sun that invades to the caresses and slaps of the wind to the luminous tears of the rain to the lacerations of the hail… Leer más This Rose

by Marcello Comitini Close the eyes and think in the darkness of the mind in the din of the heart. Let the memory browse the past without knowing what images to look for among the pages not yet torn, out of fear or shame, sometimes faded, sometimes streaked with tears often stained so much with… Leer más Hunger of infinity

by Marcello Comitini I wish the blue of the sky was black and the white clouds a twinkle of stars the trees shrouded in a veil of fog like women hidden by faith in man. I wish the sea were in the streets to wet the buildings and silent gondolas charged with lights come out… Leer más Venice

by Marcello Comitini In front of the twilight that colors the sky red and scatters gold among the trees and the shadows of the buildings my poor body remains in the gray of the fog. If I could I would abandon it in the corner where the last flowers have lost their perfume. I ask… Leer más At twilight

by Marcello Comitini The ballerina that I was holding in my arms fly high. Tender like a drop of water The wings of his heart fluttered captive. I caressed her like a dream made flesh. She asked for love and freedom. Did I know donate them? So I opened my arms. I lost her. https://marcellocomitini.wordpress.com/

by Marcello Comitini Is the space between branch and branch, between leaf and leaf an essential part of the tree? Does it make sense to break her fronds? In the movement of existence that pushes her to fill the void the sap germinates in new branches. But they will bloom against the bare walls of… Leer más Recognize

by Marcello Comitini Love blossom between thought and music, knocks on the heart burns like a rose radiates the scent of infinite promise it becomes a word that passes from the mouth to the mouth https://marcellocomitini.wordpress.com/

by Marcello Comitini At the feet of my coffin a day not far away between the tears of the mourners, and the accomplices silences you will tell the truth to my face as a silent rabbi to my Buddha hands with his harsh moral sentences. You will freely say life is what I live not… Leer más Two friends

by Marcello Comitini In your eyes I breathe the flavors of life, the warmth of the sun that lurks in your breasts, the silver of the moon kissing your knees. I wait in silence for your caress to make my body feel like pleasure. I come after you and I snuff in the air the… Leer más Dog’s love

by Marcello Comitini I stand and walk slowly feet buried in the sand. I watch. I see in the immense space between one star and another the dark nothingness of motionless night. I’m afraid that the dark will hinder my steps that a little cold wind whips my heart, that a stronger breath disperses it… Leer más Among the stars

by Marcello Comitini In a shop window I saw a lipstick the color of your lips in the morning when you wake up and smile with sunlight in the eyes. I stopped to look at him better. It was just the color of your lips fleshy satiny turgid. I went in to smell his scent.… Leer más Lipstick

by Marcello Comitini I told him about you, your smiles How much we loved each other How my hands warmed on your breasts How your mouth ignited my veins. This is love I said. This Is what we dreamed of. Your arms open like a garden Your loins like bunches of grapes Matured in the… Leer más The glass

by Marcello Comitini We fell asleep against each other on this side of the garden gates the wings of a seagull cast their shadow like that of an angel with a drawn sword. A fire rises from our bodies. On the horizon a red sun dyes the leaves of the new day. A fruit has… Leer más The gates of the garden

by Marcello Comitini I want to give a name to my silences a sound reminiscent of harmony of a song accompanied by the night. The key to access the hidden secrets behind a wall of uncertainty. Scan the caesura and the reprises, the air of war, of hunting and chains behind a taut, resonant string.… Leer más Sounds

by Marcello Comitini Sitting at a table in the shadeon the restaurant terracewith a half-empty bottleand a glass with a finger of wineI get drunk on the pungent smell of the sea in front of meand the red robe that the moon wears.She gets up and smiling, ignites the waveswith glimmers of blood.At the table… Leer más Love and regrets