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Andrea Inglese


Hesitant Hand

Write, hesitant hand
set down a date, and add
a hyphen
between day
and month, between month
and year, and wait,
now time’s
been convened.
Wait, seated shadow,
as breath leaves
and returns.

Wait for the luxury
of gathering volume;
of names tethered
to names, places
to places
a net to suspend you
a little longer
above the void.


We Two

don’t need dreams, rites, epics
or  legends. We don’t need
stringed instruments, rooms
clad in stucco, surfaces of enamel
and porcelain. We’re unique
to the whorls of our fingers
and each auditory canal
under its shell of flesh
that grazed by hand
or tongue tip
sends waves of blood 
rushing through our organs.
With eyes full of shadows
we are sedated
to the depths of our vessels,
their tunnels and pleats, 
the tips and tints of fabric,
the folds and linings
of these skins.
Cries and fevered whispers 
are sacraments escaping
our lips. If there are gods
they’ll be listening, hushed
and stunned as we break into heaven.


(Translated from the Italian by Roy Marshall)

Translation copyright © Roy Marshall, 2014.

'We two' is from the book Inventari. pub. Zona. Copyright © Zona, 2001.
'Hesitant Hand' is from Bilico, pub. d'if. Copyright © d'if, 2004.