Modern Love I Poem by Liberatore Suffoletta

Your breast is enough for my heart,
My wings are enough for your flight.
To the sky, will rain from my mouth
that, which spills over your soul.
It, the illusion of every day, is in you
and arrives sonambulistically,
like the dew in the forest.
Your absence is undermining the sunrise,
eternally in flight.
I have said that you sing in the wind
like Roman pines and English sails.
As they, you are high and taciturn.
And yet, you sadden, suddenly,
Cozy like an old way. Anger,
echoes and nostalgic voices populate you.
Sometimes, they emigrate, I wake up and
view the hungry cats that slept in your soul.