Day 10: NaPoWriMo2016

If loving

is such an spontaneous thing,

which flows from us

because it rises by itself,

which flips out of our gardens

because we can’t help it,

which breakes us in half

and makes slip out

the most sparkling

of our constellations

(…)

If love

isn’t other than love,

so unruly,

so inevitable,

so uncontainable,

 

why do we focus

on the spectrum of typecasting tags

which make nothing

but limit the illimitable,

and we let a way of naming something indefinable

i

n

t

e

r

f

e

r

e

with the firework’s explosion

we feel

under the skin?

 

 

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