LONG NIGHTS ON YOUR PORCH
Night approaches ‒
and both of us
know exactly what that means:
Talking about everything
and nothing at all;
Random questions
the ones
too deep,
too strange
too personal
to been asked when the daylight is still here.
The music
and the silence
‒ love the silence ‒
when there’s nothing else to say,
when the only warmth sound is
your breath
my breath
night breath.
And we’ll stay like that
surrounded by the dark,
enlightened by our emotional connections.
And we know
we both know
that on the day after
we’ll be tired
‒ oh, we’ll be so tired.
But our tiredness
is not a burden
to our souls,
to our minds.
Our tiredness
is just heart lighten
and full of joy
and full of rest.
RESONANCES OF A CITY I CALL HOME
I wore out the soles of my shoes
walking slowly
aimlessly
through these streets
that meant nothing to me.
Buildings are talking
Trees are crying
Children are laughing
while they’re passing me by.
But I can’t hear them
‒ I’m deaf ‒
I can’t feel
the voice of this city.
A sound.
I finally heard a sound.
Where did it come from?
I turned my head
and I saw
you.
As our eyes met
I feel
river’s voice next to me
the laughs
the chit-chat
the screams
the silence
the life of this city
that moves and moves
in waves of cosy summer days.
And that’s what you did:
you brought with you
the colours of a city
that once
maybe
we’ll live together in.
THE MONSTER
What’s that?
This little thing
that doesn’t allow you to sleep at night?
‒ It’s a tiny, tiny thought
creeping all over my bed
reaching my head
with its tentacular black hands.
It whispers in my ear:
“By now, you should have found it.
How miserable are you
to live for so long
not living at all?”
Coming from the darkness
of other’s people judgement,
it rooted in my self-doubt
and now it stares at me,
grinning.
…AND THE MUSIC WAS SO RIGHT
We didn’t have to know
what future might hold for us.
We wrote forever
in a faded ink
on a school desk already full of others promises
and we believed it.
We erased our boundaries
spending so much time
at each other’s place
that we forgot
the home we belonged to.
We had days of talks and laughter
and we thought we were rich
‒ incredibly rich.
Future was just an empty word.
We had long afternoons of silence
with a tv series played in the background.
And we could have spent the rest of our lives like that:
carrying the eternity of a moment
in our hands.
I FILL BLANK PAGES TO KEEP YOU CLOSER
Miles and miles
lie between us.
I’ll put a word
on every meter
I’ll cover to reach you.
So when finally,
one day,
I’ll knock at your door
You can read behind me the story I wrote
shaping details of you.
Chiara Cozzolino is an Italian aspiring bookseller and writer. During their university years, they wanted to work in the theatre industry and so they started to take lessons in drama writing. After their bachelor’s degree in languages, they attended a course in bookshop management, where they became passionate about publishing. Then, they attended a course in publishing, where they ended up becoming passionate about graphics and web developing stuff. Now they’re focused on their writing and figuring out what they’ll do next.
You can join them on Instagram at: @chia.ra_pixel
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