The red train.
Here I am.
On the train that runs slow. Gently.
through the desert. In the heart
red island.
Directed towards my ultimate goal.
Twenty-four hours away.
thousand five hundred kilometers.
To be able to enjoy this sweet melancholy.
A slice of cake.
coffee.
And my music. While
out the window, the scenery changes slowly.
I crop my corner of solitude on the crowded train.
I think back to the meetings. Conversations. Smiles.
Many of these will pass. Swift as the wind.
without a trace. Lost in the drawer of faded memories.
the moon. Looking next to Orlando. But some
. Some
riafioreranno when I least expect it. Looking
la luna.
Assaporando una spezia.
Scattando una foto.
Sono le persone. I discorsi. Gli occhi sinceri. Che porto con me.
Oltre che qualche ricetta.
E ben trenta chili di rossa valigia.
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