Vanni Bianconi
33
We sleep together tight, you and me,
like the two figures of my age –
and if one in his sleep turns
the other immediately fits in –
the two threes;
it’s one week now that you’ve turned thirty
and got yourself a three, not followed by a number
but the roundness of your womb
(and still, the roundness of our stupor)
where someone has been living for three months,
we are three
three.
(Thanks so my friend Vanni for sharing one of his poems with us for National Poetry Day. Here is a photo of the other two that make up the three)
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