O Hope by Aldo Quagliotti | Poetry | Heal The World Issue #12 | PAROUSIA Magazine

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O Hope

As light filtered through the crack
our faces densely packed
with ragged-looking petals
were similar to a burgundy variety
of sunset
we were tangling our majestic spires
hands floating like flies
falling like spiders along our arms
a new day was starting,
we were recovering
from the night in quarantine
debating what season would come next
right inside our room
a sweaty summer of enveloped bodies
or a myriad of autumn impervious clouds
Your heavenly fragrance
could wake up your own dormancy
that feathery smile I hold
mirrors your eyebrows, so upward-looking

I decided that your wisdom, o God
would suit spring better
Your heavenly fragrance
could wake up my own dormancy
that feathery smile I hold
mirrors your eyebrows, so upward-looking
so I covered you with gratitude
to replenish my rebirth
You velvety splendor
Draping symmetry

About The Author

Aldo Quagliotti is an Italian poet, born in a small town in northern Italy and raised near a lake that accompanied his endless afternoons of solitude populated by intermittent voices and cumbersome dreams. Prone to rebellion, he used his tongue as a pair of scissors to carve out a corner of the universe in which he could live and he soon became renowned for poetry: he came across it at conferences he sneaked into in Cambridge and at the Husky races that he loved watching at night during his stay in Austria. Disobedient and allergic to labels, he decided to live in London, where he attended the music critic course and thanks to which he now works as an aspiring music critic for the international magazine, Peek a boo.

After several publications in Italy, which were written up in numerous poetry competitions, he decided to write a book that collects all his poems written in English. This was how his first anthology, Japanese Tosa, came about, a sinister journey into human emotions that escapes the definitions of everyday life and climbs in a timid attempt to reaffirm the universality of every anger and acrimony and the sacredness of each time we fall in love.


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