Stray mines, thoughts.
Thoughts are loose cannons.
I struggle to dodge them, Some of them I like to hit.
The memory of your mouth, for example, The scent of your skin.
Those are the thoughts I don't dodge.
They're my favourite kind of loose cannons.
Stray mines. I dodge arguments we've had, I dodge unrealized projects The overwhelming sense of failure. Stray mines.
I still embrace your skin that smells of the sea, Your coffee mouth And your prickly beard on your face.
I love you with a carnal love and I love you with a mental love.
Francesca Ambrosi













