Trafika Europe 14 - Italian Piazza

Elisa Biagini by dropping, making memory overflow.

(we melt with the heat, drop by drop, we knead back into the sea. we meet again,

knots on eyelids). I listen inward to the support beams, count the fuses that open the view, I amass us for the flight, look for us in the dark, in the heat. I look for us two: you, a cloud of memory, me, running from myself like mercury, that tremor of a thermometer

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