I floss my tears
tonight
I will write very without any thought in my mind, as the words come out of my keyboard
oh no what I've done?
words have disappeared from the screen...
time is running and I will cry salty tears,
tears are tearing me apart
like the floss tears the butter,
"no sta dirme che no vene fil par taiar la polenta"*, says Tiz.
Tiz the wise big bosomed country girl,
where the air is good to breath and sometimes you have tears rolling down the cheeks because the mountains I see from her house are breathing freezy wind to my face,
but no floss for flossing them.
Ok, now what I can write in a language that isn't mine?
I don't know if freewriting is still a good idea for me now,
the floss ruins the teeth,
the gums are bleeding
Mounts Col Visentin and Nevegal seen from Tiz house
*"don't tell me that we don't have thread to cut the polenta", in Cappella Maggiore (NE Italy) dialect. Polenta is a boiled cornmeal loaf that was the staple food for poor farmers of Northern Italy. Due to its softness, it was traditionally cut with a taut thread (as was butter). The saying means: "don't get stuck on an easy problem" (if you don't have thread, you can eat your polenta anyway).
This post is part of the 5 Minute Freewrite Contest.
This is also done with The Most Dangerous Writing App and only a little editing for typos.
All images are my own unless otherwise cited.
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