Il corpo non dimentica

My nights

My nights are spent
in a bed filled with the ghosts of
everyone I ever wanted
to love -
but never had the courage to hold.

I can feel yourself beneath my covers
but maybe I'm only imagining myself
as someone worthy enough

for your craving
for your doom.

I'm hungry

I’m hungry of pictures to share
Discussions on books to read
Kisses I’ve dreamt to give
Others maps to find on body
As livids – eczema –
Hematomas of joy
And a bit of love.