Itinerary of missing places

…how many places

that would be missed places

how many places crushed by the threat and absence

how many places

are moving us

move us

and I had to go for heartbreaking inspirations

as if to draw from deep within me

the strength to talk to each other

there are

in all the streets

our confused faces

the traces of our faces and the mouth full of dust exhausts every look

I spent entire nights in all the cities of the world

and I missed the places

and places missed

me

it’s

like sometimes

dancing without being seen

invisibly loving

it’s because you have

a life to give

how many forks and derivations

cities are all cities that are not alike

and we sometimes resemble each other

yet

cities again

on the coast the coldness of the drizzle that pearls on faces

a mist of glasses

and see your face getting older

in this city that should not be named

a new wrinkle for a few weeks and the undertow again

rising a 16-hour tide

unconquered places in all the cities of the world and also yet

i was twenty-two years old on the port of Brest and the novel of criminal sailors

a street that goes up and down in a disaster of a port

love in the afternoon in body violence

the siege of my skin a ruin

it will have taken sweets refuges of carpets

places that nothing forgets

the half-light of dawn in a curtain notch on an unmade living room

the already sour dampness of bodies

lips that didn’t know how to kiss

would that be it,

tell me

the void and the words that we cannot name?

there would be ruins

cherished and lost places

places where we would have been places

and presences

indistinguishable words in the common of voices

the multiplication of voices in the multiplication of presences

and other voices and other languages

the smell of fire in destroyed cities

children dancing

a desire for rain

have you even felt this desire for rain on my body

this unsustainable heaviness of disaster

and the need for the flood

in a burst of laughter

then finally

the dazed sigh of a mouth

did we love each other in Rome

I mean is it possible that I stayed for something other than love

you are where you have been will be

and in this life in general

will be the space, the only place

of pleasure, of images

of sound and voices and glances to remember

this present where we know nothing like no other place

and when we are forced to cross this threshold of indescribable darkness

the place without images, the place without voice, the place without contact

then we should remember how once

we were in this it was and will be

towards a present lived more intensely

towards a place forever overwhelming

this desert of the dead in the sun of the living

this desert of boys brushed against in bushes

the distribution of potential gesture in given materials

in a given evening

on a given skin and in a given ass

we could still

go along the map

the missed places

we could

i mean

we would be

we

defeated

and

is it possible

sometimes

that we stop leaving

all the cities in the world

our first names scattered

who would we be again

in these places

it would have been

everywhere

everywhere you where we could have been

it

would have happened

then?

we would have to be able to get lost in the missed places

put down old clothes

put our things in order

and dance in silence in the proximity of memory

i didn’t see anything

in Aleppo

and will we see Beirut tomorrow

tell me?

will we still see

the places

the traces

a dust of life

and the lights of Buenos Aires

in the heat of January

a hand placed on a face

the smile of a man in the new cold

further south still

the din of cars

a view under the roofs and

an unexpected look

that would whisper

my first name

if you came to

missing

and everywhere these noises

still these endless noises

and the lost cacophony of our wishes

and the possibility of a mouth

that would finally say