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Aldo Quagliotti Poem
You season the days with your eyes
rolling the hours, a cracked egg
feeding the sunset with its yolk
the embryo of all the happiness
that could be drawn on a shared map
I’m so in love that it’s love that holds its breath
when you’re in deep sleep and need to wee
that I try to shut my feelings
but the mic is muted, so i blink my eyes
in pointless meetings
and your chest gets itchy and pulses
we ride the symphony of shrills so lavishly
we are volcanoes of prayers
lost and found definitions
Copyright © Aldo Quagliotti | Year Posted 2023
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Aldo Quagliotti Poem
My grandma's sandy skin
like chopped pecans delight me
stands for comfort and bitter sorties
the dysfunction and re-joining
the colossal, quasi-expressionistic soul
hidden behind despair
a husband who tried to bury you alive
we crossed disquieting silences
and productive scowls, you would get my temper
teetering on the blink of a slap
you would assure me with a pair of eyes
and I, gasping with delight
would ask you for a hug
yet passion is so much stauncher
when doesn't stride out from the chest
when it keeps quiet and invest
the beauty of a kiss
embroidered in your throat
so I keep on kissing you
and you never get enough
and I shall never pass
on feeling your son, through your daughter's act
a replica of a miracle
Copyright © Aldo Quagliotti | Year Posted 2022
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Aldo Quagliotti Poem
What shall I make
Of these torn years
of the limping fatigue
saturated with love
First and foremost
Plenty of hours
lost and found
not a single hijack
always racing up the straight line
Copyright © Aldo Quagliotti | Year Posted 2023
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Aldo Quagliotti Poem
You used to say
that pizza always sucks
once you’ve had your last slice
you’d grab the best sneer to mimic
all those moments we couldn’t box in
would have your forehead slipping into eternity
by stroking the surface of boiling water
would complain about pain
like it it could go away with high frequency
and would dress my happiness
like the first day of school
would remove my patience
strip it back like sun-dried skin
extract the life out of mouldy glimpses
pour it back into sudden itches
Copyright © Aldo Quagliotti | Year Posted 2024
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