Coiffure and Agape...

'seen my coiffure?'
Isabella thought she should ask...
At dusk...
Far away from the crowd...
Was it not the perfect space
And time
To address such an issue?
She thought
She should him ask...
At dusk...

But her he...
A machinery?
No mind?
No eyes?

She thought she should him ask...
But if that would be turned
And termed as something banal?

Something too much unnecessary?
What's then?

Thinking all these...
She turned her mind to the sky...

It was perfect...
Cool pink and red...
Was it not the perfect space
And time?
At dusk?
To ask?
About one's coiffure?

The pulls and drags continued...
Few minutes more...
A century passed perhaps
In between...
Three fishing boats anchored...
Two novels written fine...
A tv series on fantasic musical ended after two hundred running episodes...

Still...
At dusk
Was it not fair to ask?
'seen my coiffure?'
Isabella thought
She should ask...

Francesco was so far silent...
Silence had become his preferred language...
'relazione con dio...'
He had it termed
And day and night for it only yearned...

That Francesco
Seemingly muttered...
First looking at the sky
Following Isabella's gaze...
And then with eyes somewhat draped in haze...

'Agape...
That's what filled the earth
And that's what brought life...
Agape...
That's what with Philos bright
Made everything so huge
And so big...
Agape...
To Him i pray it to last
Till infinity...'

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