Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Genoa - Genova

Coloured façades twinkle in my eyes,
a morning breeze sweeps my sea,
rosemary fragrance hits my face,
stones and sand soothen my skin.

Left behind but carved in my veins,
unregular paths under my feet,
the voice of my mother calling my name,
my father who sings at the end of the day.

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