Rosario Valente

A noisy moped is roaring down the street.

On the table, my steaming cup of coffee

is waiting to be drunk. I take a sip

and in the silence I am thinking of everything I could be.

The future is invisible; the present is full of 

  mind opening skies,

    heartwarming poems,

      hugging lovers hiding in the shadows,

        and screaming typewriters in the night.

At the church, this evening, I made up with God.

I had lost Him yesterday.

A treacherous wound:

I tripped on the parvis and I cheated on Him.