Gabriella Chieffo Italy Lattedoro

I took nourishment from your mouth to mine in little threads of light. In this rising, after the tearing of a harrowing birth, you found me, shipwrecked, behind your door. No ticket. No education. I was just a baby with the face of an old woman and the uncomfortable baggage of a bulky past. You have gathered the pieces of what I was and you have joined them with golden glue of hugs, you have treated me with honey and words and called with the most beautiful name, Amica. You washed me with milk from all the pain and with the sun you have inside you have defeated the winter of anguish that freezes thoughts. Rain after rain, sea after sea you made me get up and look at the image of me that finally came back, clear, perfect and not too tiny. I grew. You filled my breath interrupted and that love whore of love, you gave me when I had nothing and found when I was already lost. We slept and dreamed of being warriors with a sigh of Hope coming back and sprouting in the chest.