When love enters our life, we are surprised, because that sense of merging with your loved one, makes us understand a seemingly simple thing, and quite unusual: love is the only means at our disposal to break the loneliness, often lurking in some moments of our lives. In some poems, this perception ensured by love is fully expressed, so poignant, in the loneliness of waiting.
“Before loving you, love, nothing was mine: vacillai on the streets and things: in numbered or name, the world was waited for air. I knew cinders lounges, inhabited by the Moon, galerie hangars that they went, cruel questions who insisted on the arena. Everything was empty, dead and dumb, fallen, abandoned and decayed, everything was strange, everything was inalienabilmente the other and none, as long as your beauty and poverty filled autumn of gifts.”
“For a long time I had a useless face. But now I have a face to be loved, a face to be happy.”