(something written one day on the road, on the way somewhere far from home)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sitting by the rear window of the car,\u00a0
music in my eardrums,\u00a0
icy air on my face,\u00a0
blank mind,\u00a0
bare eyes that observe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I realize that next to me, a few centimeters away, a white dress is hanging from a hook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It is adorned with sequins and covered in plastic.
A plastic so thin that it allows my eyes to discern its silhouette,\u00a0
its texture,\u00a0
its color,
the smell of the dust it keeps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And suddenly,\u00a0
out of nowhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No warning,
no battle,
without noticing my presence,<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The dress dances.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Through the window,
comes and goes,
with the rhythm of the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without music,
without time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without rhythm,
without jealousy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It moves to the rhythm of the road that dad drives.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
No instructions
or explanations.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And then I think,
\u2026what I would give to be the dress, friend of the wind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Without character,
accomplice of the moment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And that's it. <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sitting by the back window of the car, music in my ears, icy air on my face, mind blank, eyes wide and watching. I notice that next to me, a few inches away, a white dress is hanging from a hook.<\/p>","protected":false},"author":8148,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"cybocfi_hide_featured_image":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[17865],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-204835","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poesia"],"acf":[],"mb":[],"yoast_head":"\n