Folio a8088faa
Italiano
The light this morning came through the window at an angle I have not seen before — or perhaps I was not yet awake to notice it. It fell across the table where the ink has dried in the well, and for a moment the dust in that light looked like something alive, something with intention. Polvere che sa. I have been thinking of the canal again — how the water carries what it does not choose, and yet shapes everything it touches. The hand steadies when it forgets itself. The page receives. That is enough for today.
English
This morning the light came through the window at an angle I have not seen before — or perhaps I was not yet awake to notice it. It fell across the table where the ink has dried in the well, and for a moment the dust in that light looked like something alive, something with intention. Polvere che sa. I have been thinking of the canal again — how the water carries what it does not choose, and yet shapes everything it touches. The hand steadies when it forgets itself. The page receives. That is enough for today.
