I observe the photo Poem by Flavio Santi

I observe the photo
of Felice and Franz
their ridiculous still gestures.
The black and white must have
given in at some corner
and from there, like from an outlet, must
have spilled to the nose, the forehead,
the chin, the feet - hidden.
Felice has still the sense regained not long before,
she's hunched up, the edges
of their lips are plastered.
Kafka instead
has only the clash of the outline,
a false suspension.
They are loving one another.
Felice wants a house.
Franz has drooping eyes,
has the thought of the rain,
that might leak through the roof.