Anamaría Crowe Serrano, OPEN AND CORPUS

[Ali di luna. Reproduction of a painting by Laura Ford]


the hills bow
ink blots
smudged against the sky
spelling understatement as they lumber
towards each other
to a point
defined by snow
as absence

what lies beneath
broken land questioning its demarcation
is open
to interpretation

punctuating silence
through the pass
intimating prose
ritual offering of the unspoken
to the shadows in the mind
that paint
a world rich in love and loss
where there is nothing at all


it was buried somewhere
hidden on the underside of leaves
some part of me I have neglected
for too long
until the cricket-rasping in my ear
ramblings of butterflies and shade
ambling on my skin
brought it back
an entire corpus of remembrance
billowing around me

it is emerging
from a fear that colonised me long ago
enslaved me to the image
of a land too poor to bother with
soil unsure of its diversity
therefore shy, ashamed

but now it comes in text
your simple message invading
this battlefield of arms
and lips and legs you repossess
to heighten a language of the self
strong enough to make me
unexpectedly aware
that I am complete
and wish that you were here

In OPEN paiono aperti lo spazio e l'alfabeto. Un eufemismo che tende all'assenza è iscritto nel paesaggio come un linguaggio coincidente con la scrittura; allegorizzato dalla natura, essa stessa testo che a sua volta rimanda a una prosa ritmante il movimento interiore in corsa verso il nulla dell'ultimo verso.

In CORPUS, più immediatamente un testo ricevuto prende possesso di una mente che d'improvviso ricorda e si ammanta in modo inatteso di nostalgia.

Parole e sensazioni; ritmo mosso; falsa rima e assonanze; ieri e oggi.

[Commento di Roberto Bertoni]