When the world retreats


An evocative poem by Antonella Lucchini

Muse:  Carmilla Red

The dream lies

in the penultimate house:

the unsaid

the lost

the submerged

the unheard

what was a road



the ugly


the broken glass

the doors slammed

the obtuse epiglottis

the food does not pass

the devil in the house

the depressed father

the stone mother

feet backwards

the falling snow

the rain rests

the dream is the game of time

I am the nut.

Poetry by Antonella Lucchini