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ChildrenIn a violet dream with dusty snowI swam through the architecture of a godPulling pieces of history down from their hooksThe liquid world was warm and lightheadedI held onto a foreign parcel, treading with goblins and paint ploddersFloating on the waves, breathing in and singing out the motionArriving at your doorIt was so hard to focus...Those... things so far out of reachI think I knew themI think they were oursWill you help me get them back? Is that possible?I'm still not sure if I can face the truth
MontagnaI need my mountain backBecause that's where I sitI sit and become the mountainI need my eyes backBecause that's how I watchI watch myself growing oldAs granite's hold launchesBetween crown and full moonI discard five lossesIn a single afternoonUna più notte quiUna nuova notte quiMontagna, MontagnaPrego ritornoCi guardiamo svilupparci vecchiPlease return
Another Scrap, another 'poem'A resilient echoA memory washed upA past long tied to the worldThere's a weight in these peopleI haven't imaginedOr learned, or seenOr spokenFear has caught up with meAnd I want to name itBut that takes it all out of meI still haven't discoveredOr dealt, or dreamedOr sungEveryone has somethingAnd hard as I tryI can't take in the bigger pictureI don't know where to put anythingAs this poem fades into a rantI realize I could write anythingAnd it wouldn't make a differenceIn the worldBut I never meant it toWe'll hang in thereA resilient echo at least