storia di un bagnetto
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@ioenina
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
YOU ARE THE REASON
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storia di un bagnetto
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@ioenina

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biglietti d'auguri quasi consegnati
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@ioenina
Ovetti
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@ioenina
vale per tutto, disse il fratino.
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@ioenina
Dubbi, polpe e nascondimenti.
[Frutta, Verdura e Virtude di stagione / Giugno]
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@ioenina

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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dossi e paradossi
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@ioenina
Sometimes I find myself so immersed in a strangeness that resembles me, that I feel as though I’m wrapped in a wadding of cotton then I walk into a room full of balloons and soft soap bubbles and I feel like a sharp beak that will never find a place to rest – but nobody asked you to feel at home everywhere.
gioco preferito
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@ioenina
The words you don’t say remain in circulation, on a merry-go-round whilst you don’t speak the words, they carry on playing in their playground waiting for the game of words to be free to be played the swing is always empty; it’s the only game they never play. words – spoken or unspoken – don’t like to come back, they say.
dedicato al mio amico istinto.
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@ioenina
The more you think about it, the more your gut feeling will believe that you don’t trust him — so don’t complain later if he wanders off into the countryside, to gaze at the windmills that tell him stories of Don Quixote.
FOLLOWERS - #1
esercizi di nonsense, crespelle e parapiglia
(continua, ne voglio fare millemiglia).
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@ioenina
[liberamente ispirato alle endless tales di Remy Charlip, 1969]
Frutta, Verdura e Virtude di stagione / Maggio.
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@ioenina
Seasonal tips by @ioenina / MAY RHUBARB: Be flamboyant rhubarb, unexpected creature, mysterious tongue-twister! (You can’t possibly please everyone; if everyone likes you, it means you haven’t made any choices). BROAD BEAN: A treasure trove of words to be spoken—if you’re lucky, you’ll find them all on the table, on the checkered tablecloth, waiting for you. SPRING ONIONS: They looked like blades of grass—but they were substantial doubts, flavorful exclamations. CHARD: Like a book you don’t expect, with a sturdy spine and languid pages. PEAS: Ellipses a plenty — nothing left unsaid, just necklaces of precious invisible thread. LOQUAT & STRAWBERRY: Tell the difference between the stone of things vs. the surface of things. GREEN BEANS: Omit the end only if it is a green bean.

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A Blade of Grass You ask for a poem. I offer you a blade of grass. You say it is not good enough. You ask for a poem. I say this blade of grass will do. It has dressed itself in frost, It is more immediate Than any image of my making. You say it is not a poem, It is a blade of grass and grass Is not quite good enough. I offer you a blade of grass. You are indignant. You say it is too easy to offer grass. It is absurd. Anyone can offer a blade of grass. You ask for a poem. And so I write you a tragedy about How a blade of grass Becomes more and more difficult to offer, And about how as you grow older A blade of grass Becomes more difficult to accept. Brian Patten (Love Poems, Flamingo, 1990)
[4]
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@ioenina
poche volte si raccontano le cose col valore vero cocente delle parole che portano, forse solo quando le dici perché escano da te e basta, e non perché per forza abbiano risposta
e poi quando le dici a chi davvero sa raccoglierle, come un altro petto, da petto a petto, che le assorbe, una spugnetta di mare, che le amplifica, come mare.
tutto il resto, parola, storia, narrazione narrata tradotta interpretata, mi pare decada come lo zucchero che giri giri nell'acqua fresca ma lui si deposita in fondo, e non si scioglie mai.
i fiori difficili
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@ioenina
Who will tell the little girl that every forget-me-not she picks will become vast, defining memories - unshakable Colossi of Rhodes and blue they seemed to vanish the moment she picked them.
dove, dove arriva l'impossibile

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Manifesto del qui e ora e basta.
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@ioenina
I don’t want to pick flowers to fill a vase but out of a mad longing for love and I don’t want to draw to fill the emptiness of a box, here but out of a mad longing for truth Let my reality be free to be urgent — the golden rule of truth.
c'è un papavero appollaiato sul mio cuore, disse il papavero