The second life

Yours, our second life

Ieri sera scendendo dal camper cercavi la mia hand, il mio appiglio, il mio aiuto.

You who until a year ago were an inveterate sportsman, a superfine basketball player, that your coach had to give you a brake every now and then otherwise you would play 4 times running back and forth throughout the field, "coast to coast" as you nicknamed a dear friend of ours.

Oggi chiedi la mia hand per scendere 3 scalini.

This is what disease is: it is a second life that takes possession of the first, of the original, of the origin, of the true one.

And he transforms it at will, like a virus that enters and shapes everything it finds in its path.

And then what remains of the original life: sometimes the smile remains, just as it is always vivid inside you, your often uncontainable laughter, your calling your faithful friend "bro” or southern “bro".

And when the disease also takes away the smile?

The gestures remain, like a caress, like when you seek my embrace, like when you say softly "I go with my daddy".

But often an illness can take away even this, the gestures.

And then the crumbs remain, the ones we left on the street.

If they are few and far between, the wind will carry them away.

If they are many and crowded, they will form figures that everyone can see, touch, feel; like a heart, a cloud, a flutter of wings.