The very first minutes that we were there,
it was cold,
it was raining,
the square was crowded,
and we were part of that noise,
we were full of happiness.
Very first impressions count.
Venice, 2017.
What about our untold story?
Where our unspoken words reside?
What our time is really playing?
Why the world let us behind?
—
Florence - Venice commute, 2017.
Leica Q.
“Without noticing, I slip into a light yet lingering malaise. Not a depression, more like a fascination for melancholia, which I turn in my hand as if it were a small planet, streaked in shadow, impossibly blue.”
— Patti Smith
memories by Lama.
i’m not afraid of losing you
i’m afraid i might forget you
all the memories in years we had
can fly away in the speed of light
i tried to write down the whispers
we shared in paris and venice
we were strangers paired
the wind made us kiss under a local’s roof
the bullets tried to separate us
but we were bulletproof
to an unknown town we once escaped
we were young and foolish
making this love embrace
we tried to build our home
but our night bed was the shore
we drove by misleading roads
tried everything and went everywhere
nothing was strong enough
to break us away
but all these letters flew up the sky
before the ink was dry.
Venice, 2017.
Leica Q.
Libreria Acqua Alta.
Venice, 2017.
We walked by hours in circles, we drank coffee, a lot, we got tired, we experienced the beauty of being lost, we were found, we got gelatos, too many, and then we arrived home.
Leica Q.
