On The Bridge Poem by fabio vicentini

the summer of an Italian seaside

arches my hair through the exiled freshness

that wallows the sun on the Vltava tide.

the same giddy unveil of blissfulness


bathed the skin clotted with iodide

when the sight chanced on a breeze piped dress

and the glowing flesh in that shaded hide

gemmed intimacy among wrecked hisses.


not there i ever rested. the tedious

seasons passed on unripening visions

that passively strummed the loss of sensuous


reliefs in outspent memories prisons.

still, I feel for the virgin spume envious

as the heat to haste its blind touch summons.