un buco
un buco

un buco

Posso chiederti una cosa un po’ personale?

Certo che puoi.

A te cosa ha lasciato il terremoto?

Cazzo, che domanda mi fai… Non lo so, è una domanda dura, difficile.

Perché io il cratere lo sento dentro, qui, sul petto e ogni giorno lo sento sempre più grande, lo guardo e si allarga come una ferita, come un buco. E poi mi chiedo: perché a qualcuno è stato permesso di restare e a qualcun’altro no?

[al bar, Ussita]

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