I Have Herpes And A Bad Rash

reunification (deconstruction reconstruction) family

I woke up this morning to go to work as usual: Baba's sleep is so silent for a moment I thought of him.
a moment later I remembered: it arrived yesterday and is sleeping next to me.
rigurgitino of pure happiness!
but it felt to breathe, move, and I dared not stretch a foot, a hand, turn around to look.
I was afraid that my imagination and my wish had finally taken over in my head and that if the fairies were having a great time at the big drunk in my ears.
scared to death! a gust of cold sweat and fever.
but it was there, it's still there, and there will be tonight when I get back from work.
then I discovered that he stood up in the middle of the night and as he went into the kitchen to smoke a cigarette, with that perfect aplomb very Inglese not lose even under the impact of atomic weapons, he asked "but who I am .. domendo ..?".

there is a stress syndrome from reunification (deconstruction reconstruction) family?
a syndrome that afflicts people who spent a year at a distance (or two, three, four, eight ..) seeing maybe once a year or even one.
a syndrome that explains why, from the day of his departure, spesso, troppo spesso, ho avuto la fisica sensazione di scosse di terremoto che erano solo nei miei nervi a fior di pelle, che mi facevano alzare dal letto per controllare che il cielo non mi stesse cadendo sulla testa o appoggiare alla cucina, dove stavo preparando pasta cacio e pepe alla romana, con la sensazione che le ginocchia cedessero?
ma nulla si muoveva a parte il mio spirito compresso. 
perchè per un anno il mio desiderio sessuale si è congelato in un rigidissimo non-pensiero-non-desiderio, nella fredda, terrorizzata, distanza perfino dall'abbraccio di un amico, dalle coccole di un'amica?
perchè a volte è stato così facile riconfortarmi con la mia immagine abituale da single, facile come wearing an old flannel pajamas chess men cutting, wrap in pink shawl and put me in front of the telly to purr myself, as easy as thinking about my future, my everything, easy to forget how to have another family now and no longer, nor only a daughter, nor only a sister, or just a friend.
a syndrome that explains why I've been holding so far, and then I find myself for a moment (fortunately only a moment) into a black hole of terror to the idea that the cocoon of blankets next to me is that only the down rose up to my fights night?

syndrome exists, and it touched me because even in mild reading difficulties were my compared to other people's stories are much more complex and dramatic.
exists and the two lightly today we face and we laugh together, to be drunk together, erasing all of a sudden a year of effort.
but some do not have all this good fortune: the syndrome does exist in different forms and affects, and sometimes destroyed.
exists, but it is not spoken, not in detail, not enough.
I would like to speak it, I would be talking about the shared, before, during and after you learn together, not to regard it as inevitable part and all things considered unimportant in the process of migration, but as something which the State, the society can and must deal with what has to deal with health, housing, safety, language, the process of coexistence and change - that if I would speak of it as a right, the right to suffer for his family split in half like a grapefruit.

there is a right to protection of the family unit, as set out in the Immigration Act (TU art. 28, 29, 30 and 31 paragraph 3, Art. 19, paragraph 2 °; Presidential Decree 394/1999 art. 6, 28 ) .
there are too many decisions that disregard contrary, there are too many holes in the support services, there is a huge lack of cultural empathy and solidarity with the men, women and children who live far away and can not join a weekend and so a no.
there are families that these are real and even if they do not live in the same place, nor in the same city, nor in the same country and sometimes even the same continent.
there are families for which the State claims the right to determine who should not be, not on its territory, as if "the state" were monstrous entity with its own life independent of its ghostly citizens.
are mourning that nobody sees, because nobody sees, because they lived at a distance.

distance exists, and it hurts, worn out, digs, furrows, and knots affect nerves, tendons, pulled muscles and weaves, takes your breath away and the will to live.
talk about it, perhaps, will make it a bit 'less icy and sharp, Who knows?

Record Propellerhead Dongle Emulator

My name Ibou, Makhtar, Bassirou, Ousseynou ...

'm the tall one, as massive as a marble column that blocks the passage at the local, that are as thin as a reed, in light Armani suit and glasses, always charming ... and indeed, are roly-poly with the eyes smart and well-kept hands, everybody's friend, and what are looking a bit 'dumb, all muscle, very dark black, looked grim.

I Corso Como in the bouncer, I have the best job you could want to make money, who wants to enter must be my friend and my friend it's about money, who wants to know ask me, who goes in search of gossip comes to me, who wants to live the night must necessarily pass by me - are not powerful .. I know .. I have no money ...

I have all the women I want.

All bouncers, in Corso Como are Senegalese.

if steps not recognize me there, we all look the same at first glance and it's okay, what matters is not your first glance, but ours.

My dream was to get married and have a family, a family of Europe, a European wife, I find it very elegant, the German - but I do not know why after a couple of years of living together is always out of something wrong: the final did not want to get married and did not want children, a particular bureaucratic insignificant, he said, but I do not see the sense of a living if you do not get married at some point.

So I left.

I went back to live alone, my house is well appointed with trendy style learned from a lot of friends, work at night, rest in the morning, some commission, a book, a movie at afternoon.

At one point I realized I have forty years, had not realized the dream of European roots, I felt the urge to go a bit 'at home and I took three months of vacation.

As soon as I saw it I felt that there was something special, I can not find the words to tell you what, I never fell in love with a black woman before, even when I came on holiday there were many women I wanted to but I've never desired.

you, I wanted right away.

And she agreed immediately.

We got married after a month and two months we were together.

As these things happen?

I returned to Italy and you know, I immediately asked the family reunion, was in a hurry: awaiting response from the Prefecture for six months, but the times are long, I know, but now I do not know if I have a lot more hurry to start it, maybe it's better if it stays there.

Something has changed.

I tell you this, the first time, when I heard her on the phone, she said things that made me cry, seriously! I'm not kidding, I had never heard before and I was happy, totally happy.

But it changed for some time.

has changed.

Maybe he is in love with another.

Maybe my brother, who often goes to visit her.

The distance is a bad thing.

go to Senegal in February a couple of months, I have already asked for leave, I want to understand what happens, maybe it's just the distance that makes it more difficult and incomprehensible, but I want to see with my own eyes, talk, and then decide what do - I will not leave in the case, but it can always be there.

His eyes are dark, cloudy, listening to his story without a word, with too many words in my mouth, no need to say anything.

She looks at me knows that I understand it, look past me, knows that I listen to, you know who can tell me what you feel in the heart without filters in a long dialogue that rises to the lips only just enough to be said, but which is really a continuous story that has almost no internal need to stress, which was repeated several times in the head until you find this form quiet and resigned.

Un dialogo che va perfezionato, se l'intento è quello di nascondere la delusione e l'amore frustrato.

Gli offro una sigaretta, la prende, mi ringrazia, la tiene tra le dita senza accenderla, mi osserva accendere la mia, i suoi pensieri non sono lì.

Sorride quando riemerge, i suoi occhi quasi si scusano ma è solo buona educazione, voleva tanto parlarne che non si fermerebbe più e io non lo fermerei se potessi.

Sta facendo notte, in Corso Buenos Aires piove e si accendono le luci di Natale.

Quest'uomo parla di sé e di molti e di molte.

speaks of those who are alone and believed to find a half and then half that got lost somewhere - a dubious half wandering, barefoot and disheveled, and looking for a hand to pick up and bring her home, confused laws and restrictions, economic needs, parts of families who live elsewhere, are not shared cultural codes, new cultural codes are not yet understood.

Us and them, we stop.

U.S., mixed with the burden of living at a distance, many miles away that deepen wrinkles and furrows of loneliness, insecurity, of fragility, of the personal difficulties - united by fate common in a world where the family first duty is no longer the old coded and parental marital fidelity or respect, but the patience, the eternal waiting for wives and husbands, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers on the phone do not recognize when you see more and shake to strangers.

I am Italian, my husband is away Senegal for a year.

Senegalese friend of mine's husband is away for almost two Italian.

The wife of an acquaintance Albanian Italian fails to return for eight months and can not be certain of when he can get a visa.

The twins are the Bangladeshi caretaker arrived a fortnight ago, after two and a half years of waiting: you are playing two spinners who were thirteen, sixteen had requested, came two boys with the right to exercise the vote and to call the hotline with your credit card but their mother remembers them small and can not get used to the smell of their male counterparts.

Us and them, we stop.

bureaucratic reasons, legal reasons, economic reasons, contingent reasons that make that a long distance relationship, otherwise manageable, becomes a nightmare when the miles are too many and when you can not shorten each time your heart demands.

Maledette frontiere.

Pazienza, da coltivare con dedizione, certezze da mantenere salde, amore e cura che passano per i fili del telefono, adolescenti che crescono con la sola guida di una tessera telefonica internazionale.

I codici di riconoscimento dopo un po' saltano.

Dici “ciao” e si sente “vaffanculo”, dici “amore” e si sente “chi sei?”.

Chi sei amore? Ciao, vaffanculo.

Un giorno ho sentito forte la sua mancanza, fortissimo, ero per la strada, pioveva, tornavo da alcune costs, and I called, was a great feeling, how can I explain it? I do not know, I could not find the words I was stuck, maybe I'm scared and I was a bit 'aggressive with her.

Since then, it is not the same thing, she is closed and whenever we feel is a bit 'worse.

Perhaps the distance is the damage that being together will melt, or perhaps has done irreparable damage and she went elsewhere to look for companionship and comfort forgetting the other side of the sea.

Sometimes we fight, for no reason.

Sometimes he does things che non capisco, va a parlare con i miei famigliari, dice che l’ho abbandonata, che non voglio farla partire – le ho detto che deve parlare con me, dei nostri problemi, ma come posso pretendere che una voce nel telefono la tranquillizzi davvero?

Mio fratello è lì, presente, attento, occhi negli occhi, un braccio pronto a sorreggerla se scivola.

Forse lui cerca di portarmela via, forse invece prova ad aiutarmi, ma come lo capisco, al telefono?

Le uniche certezze che puoi avere devi dartele da solo e a volte scopri che sono solo illusioni, buone per non impazzire.

Adesso non so più se voglio che lei venga a stare qui, prima devo vederla, capire, guardarla negli occhi, capire cos’è successo.

Ciao, amore, chi sei?

Bailiff Seizure Meaning

sopprimiamoli love the bouncer!

mi sono persa dentro un desiderio troppo grande.
attraverso la strada e non mi accorgo che il semaforo è rosso.
prima o poi sarà troppo tardi.
mi sono persa.
vorrei stendermi lì, davanti a quella vetrina chiusa che mi guarda ottusa ogni mattina, sul wet pavement, close your eyes and stop thinking this cold makes me want to let me go.
but what right I have, I think to myself?
Mussa Khan arrived in Europe in the back of a truck ice cream.
"sopprimiamoli, even small children are Gypsies!"
there is no heat nor love, nor law anywhere.
I can not even breathe in the values \u200b\u200bthat I have grown.
I can not stop believing.
values \u200b\u200bserve to provide support, limits, rules, things warm and reassuring, are not crazy.
pretend that everything is always good, but I do not think, after all.
"women talk too much, the right to withdraw them word" ungrammatical arrogantly claim the administrator of a facebook group.
I lost in naive irresponsible, forty years.
I missed thinking about that a policeman could not kill a nigga with a teser
I missed saying that a farmer would never have bought toxic waste by the mafia polluting the earth and his own thoughts
I lost belief my husband was my husband.
shared values \u200b\u200band goals.
learn together to make the wedding.
to learn to shield against everything that's out there.
but what right have I to think of myself?
Africa has insurmountable problems, problems unimaginable in our spoiled white head - once advised people not to force the women to their pretty little head into their biggest problems of today are too polite to say it and use cultural differences - I can only wait, be quiet, not show, back straight and playing penelope - the same soup.
no one before had ever told me "you're sick," as if it were a colpa.
è questo il matrimonio?
il matrimonio è la colpa?
non basta avere un uomo accanto perchè la vita ti sorrida.
intanto la mia amica rom fuori dal bar muore di freddo e io non so se vuole abiti per coprirsi o per venderli e nemmeno mi importa perchè non ne ho da regalare
io adesso non sono forte.
non sono niente.
grido silenziosamente davanti a un telefono muto, strepito, pretendo, vorrei farmi del male per spostare il dolore dal cuore al sangue.
“la vita con te è un inferno”
la vita con me è un hell.
but I have to live there, you can go, I do not: how to survive in hell?
"you write with soul"
perhaps the soul can be useful to escape hell.
I'm lost in a too great desire, to grow together, and with a perfect pass from perfectible.
I'm lost and I do not know where to look andarmi.
dignity, a friend tells me severe.
dignity.
right.
when you still have the dignity will save you, keeps you in the organs who would run out, the stomach acid splashing, the brain bursts.
invention, dignity.
I lost my dignity.
and when you have more you lie there in front of that window is closed you look stupid every morning on the wet pavement, close your eyes and stop thinking the cold makes you want to let go.

[if I were certainly a man finds a woman willing to open myself unconditionally the door, listening to my anger against the world, in questioning before an obstacle, but probably, if I were a man, I do not notice it - I do not envy the pain, neither for men nor for women]

South Park The Movie Streeam

onions

but as they fight the Senegalese women?
probably as a huge amount of peel onions without letting his eyes water.

ago but still a bad dog.

Granny Flat Floor Plans

my Tabaska, the year 2010

Eid el-Adha, the feast of sacrifice or a big party, celebrating the choice of man's submission to Allah and is a celebration of joy and joy, new clothes, plenty of food, gifts, coins to children who pass from door to door to proudly display hairstyles, new shoes and gold embroidery.

Allah wants to make a covenant with Abraham, to check his faith and to guarantee a dynasty that will live all over the world will be blessed, bringing the faith of Abraham all nations: to give proof of his faith in Allah, Abraham agreed to obey a command to sacrifice his son on the day and the place which is indicated.

Abraham passes the test, his faith is strong, but could not be, could have refused to sacrifice that son, the only legitimate heir was from Sarah who got pregnant in very advanced age, and only thanks to divine intervention, would could protect him, not trusting God to give his life and Ishmael, the illegitimate son, his offspring.

The risk is of man and of God who gave man freedom of choice. To have faith means to consider

Allah is reliable, believe that He will keep its commitments and will honor its obligations.

It 's a free account.

E 'freedom of choice which is celebrated every year on this holiday.

Tabaska I celebrated this year in Senegal, home of my husband, in St. Louis.

After praying in the mosque, in the morning, it makes the sacrifice, killing a sheep with the excision of the jugular and making the blood flow into a pit dug on purpose.

It 'a very strong, for a moment the air becomes rarefied, breathing stops you in your throat, takes a moment, then everything returns to normal, death came and went and this time it was not taken away this time Isaac and reaffirmed the mutual respect that exists between God and Man.

My husband almost did not say a word, his compassion for the ram white, big and strong, taking the balance from his hands, was in his muscles tense, heart pounding, and oppression of the previous minutes hours later, in silence and respect for the animal that died to feed the covenant between a man and his god.

I learned it in less than a minute, a view of life and the simple faith and unwavering: he does not know, but it taught me to be strong.

The Tabaska is not only what we see here, are used to seeing the meat and the animals as two separate things (one counter in the supermarket and other documentaries), it is a feast of blood, a celebration of power riddled with excessive spending and superficial rituals of conservatives, in the worst tradition of waste.

see in others only what we are able to live ourselves. The

Tabaska this is also a celebration of consumerism just as our modern Christmas waste of money, debts, need to make major gifts through mock important.

But as Christmas, Tabaska is also more.

Tabaska The home of my husband was a quiet celebration of money if they are spent, the right ones to celebrate the rite and to give satisfaction to the boys wearing their new white dresses and embroidered Moroccan slippers and if I went around the neighborhood like two cockerels plucked.

My mother-in-law and my sister in law, Baba and the guys worked all day, however, working together in the ritual, the skinning, preparing and cooking meat, then in itself, for the days to come and for the poor that are donated in part.

They worked almost in silence, until, towards evening, washed with a shower from fatigue, dust, a sense of wonder, and clothes with new clothes, did not start the round of greetings and good wishes.

Dèwenèti

Ball but akk

Ball nala

Yallah Yalla na Ñu Boole ball

Greetings.

I ask your forgiveness and I ask forgiveness from you.

May Allah forgive us all.

The men around the neighborhood and the women at home to receive relatives and children coming in around the houses.

It's hot, made hot all day but when he started the round of greetings and refreshing is the dusk, the moon is not full, but it shines bright.

A handshake, a look at this curious Toubab intimidated dressed in green on the leather sofa in the living room, proudly explained, "is the wife of Babacar", best wishes to rhyme like water flowing over the pebbles, while others wish the owner home and take the road of the district.

I was expecting fireworks, sabar all night, all calls from the minaret, the vulgarity of the typical traditional festivals everywhere: there is only a moment, brief but intense, joyful explosion of trading of calls sounds pavoneggianti performances.

The day celebrated a sacrifice, alliance, in silence, with respect, in peace, making the link balance in a family reunited after years of absence and a new little family that was celebrating its first new Tabaska.

How Much Is A Barbara Weber Painting Worth

married in San Marino

a good alternative for those without a residence permit

marriage celebrated at the City of the Republic of San Marino is often the only alternative for those who wish to marry their partner italian @, and can not do that because with the entry into force of the security package in August 2009, those without a permit di soggiorno non può accedere agli atti amministrativi (tra cui, il matrimonio).
Il Comune della Repubblica di San Marino accetta di celebrare i matrimoni e poi ne trasmette l’atto al Comune italiano di residenza del partner italian@, perchè sia registrato; la stessa cosa farebbe un qualunque altro Stato estero: in questo caso c'è qualche facilitazione in più rispetto alla presenza sul suo territorio di chi non è in possesso di permesso di soggiorno.

ecco come si fa:
è necessario un atto notarile che precede la richiesta di pubblicazioni e di matrimonio.
il primo si fa presso un notaio , the second is made at the offices of the Civil State of the City (by July 28, Borgo Maggiore, San Marino 0584-882080)
four witnesses are required Italians, who must necessarily be present at the time of the deed, only two of them are required on the wedding day

after publishing, you can celebrate the wedding date is fixed in about 30 days.


is recommended for those who live far from San Marino, to set the deed in the early morning (8:30) so that you can also go to the City for publications in the morning.
any sleep a Rimini la notte prima (meno cara di San Marino) .

la registrazione del matrimonio presso il Comune italiano di residenza viene fatta direttamente dal Comune di San Marino

all’avvenuta registrazione, è possibile andare alla Questura di riferimento, con la copia dell’atto di matrimonio e i documenti di identità dei coniugi, per chiedere il permesso di soggiorno.

documentazione necessaria:
per l@ spos@ priv@ di permesso di soggiorno:

• passaporto valido
• certificato di free state and birth certificate, issued by the city in the country of origin, translated and stamped by the consulate of Italy (1 week) and legalized by the Prefecture (1 week)

for italian @ @ @ SPOS:

• identity card
• birth certificate issued by the city of birth,
• certificate of single status, residence certificate, citizenship certificate, issued by the municipality of residence

for the 4 witnesses

• identity card

costs:
the deed costs about 250 €
a very simple wedding held during the week costs approx. € 300, if you want to have the big room it costs approx. 500, if you want to do in the great hall on Saturday it costs approx. 800.

Refrigerator Casoni.cz

Milan, Italie

Mr.Nani du Galsen

Nani, you ne sais pas Milan?
C'est ici et je veut ou j'abite you show photos. I have taken
thinking of you, a rainy day not too far.
Well, now you too will think of me in my city.

Piazza Cadorna

Park San Siro, near Milan or FC plays

Old Harbour where we will play the djembe on Sundays during the summer

Corso Buenos Aires - this is where I work

is called the Red Church

Piazza del Duomo, center

Park Fountain Castle

have you seen? is not that much rain in Senegal!

the Metro (this is where I met your uncle, the first time we went out ensamble:)))

il Duomo, the church's most famous

Brera district

Bicocca area, have just been completed for the new University

Sempione Park, the Park Chateau

Garibaldi area, the new executioner of the Region

Central Station

tram from 1800

via Angera left home ...!

Via Melchiorre Gioia

Viale Monza and Piazzale Loreto

Cm Before Missed Period

letter to the candidate to reconcile the irreconcilable Pisapia immigration

Giuliano Pisapia

PRESS

My priorities 'WHY' THE TOWN IS CLOSE TO FOREIGN

Milan October 25 - "Last night I received a great enrichment meeting with the ethnic communities in Milan "- Giuliano Pisapia said -" I was able to address their concerns, issues that are daily called to live in our city.

Da Mayor, I intend to build, in cooperation with state authorities, a solution for the handling of cases of renewal of residence permit as a collection using the municipal offices both central and decentralized. We must avoid a repetition of scenes unworthy of a civilized country, hundreds of people lined up overnight in front of police stations or post offices. It should be a door for reception of aliens from orient the various departments of our national and local bureaucracy. "

The City could - as a public facilitator - encouraging the purchase of air tickets at preferential rates to support family reunification.

The Look of the Strangers, are important in promoting body acceptance and listening and that the council Moratti has never had a fully operational, it must be revitalized, with a view of the right to vote in areas - changing the Constitution - on hold of a national law on the vote in local elections. "

 

The mayoral candidate of the left for the primaries in Milan, Giuliano Pisapia, is certainly a reputable and honest person, is a hope for change for many, embodies the face of that kind and practical policy that is missing for some time: is a person of quality.

But now facing the immigration issue as if he lived and had always lived in a glass bubble, and this surprises me.

been years (anni!) and outside the police headquarters in Milan and the Post Office there are no more the terrible code and referred to: the applications are years that are sent on-line, "comfortably" at home and that "great! from home, the wait is two to three years before they actually have a residence permit, ten to twelve months before you have an appointment to apply to join the family then takes another two to three years to actually be licensed and reside in Italy ....

Competence is to police headquarters and prefectures, namely the Ministry of Interior, the municipality may undertake, in cooperation with other municipalities, provinces, regions, to holding, but emergencies but that can and must address and resolve its territory, are others.

promises to open new branches as local does not resolve remains the responsibility of others, and sounds a lot like the usual tissue - why not use those funds to support the points already exist, voluntary associations and who are struggling just to survive and not suffer for lack of personal jurisdiction?

centers are needed day and night, the first and second reception for asylum seekers and holders of humanitarian protection, victims of torture and war, are projects of psychological support, job training, learn real language.

We need inclusion projects involving the Roma families.

serves a different outlook on unaccompanied minors.

Does it have to be registered is accepted even during the first permit.

We need childcare for working mothers.

employment assistance services are needed who have real contacts with the business community and represent a real tool for those who are unemployed.

Servono progetti di riqualificazione sociale nei quartieri, a favore dei ragazzi, dei bambini, degli adolescenti a rischio.

Servono forti incentivi alle piccole imprese.

Servono centri di aggregazione.

Servono mediatori culturali nelle scuole.

Servono luoghi di preghiera.

Servono centri culturali.

Serve il diritto di voto!

Serve che il Comune non veda allo straniero solo come a uno foreign, different and otherwise handle: the real inclusion passes for policies that do not criminalize, which does not discriminate, which are for all and put all on the same level of need.

At least two-thirds of what I listed above is not just immigrants.

I am surprised to read of consultations are not binding on anyone, subsidized air tickets in high season! This discrimination is completely ineffective feel-good, but you really think that is enough to promise two glass beads to convince the people of Milan (who can vote) that Mr. Pisapia is serious about immigration matters?

The Milanese, thanks to years of right-wing policies and Lega and thanks to Berlusconi, certainly have a problem with the perception of immigration, but I hope they are still smart enough to feel offended in front of the proposal a trip facilitated in response to requests from the families.

Lawyer Pisapia, tell us something better, please.

Cristina Sebastiani

town

Tech Deck Online Game.comm

# 2

can a man who lives in a dramatic and tragic world, a world that threatens to collapse with a crash every day, spurred by heavy rains and drought idiotic, exploding into frenzied dances of joy, sabar and powerful drums, that grows with spirits and jinn and all sorts of forces and power in casual living with gris gris and magic, a land of extreme heat, vast oceans governed by capricious gods and beautiful, bustling cities and food Hot, a world inevitable that every day, despite everything, will be seeking immutable, fixed and not at all inclined to a slightest change: può quest’uomo prendere sul serio quello che avviene al di là del mare, dove i cambiamenti sono più rapidi e la natura umana più facilmente leggibile, dove per le piogge bastano aplomb e un paio di stivali di gomma, e per i tradimenti si volta pagina, ça va sans dire, senza rimpianti?

qualche tempo fa mi hanno raccontato una favola, oggi la racconto a voi, anche se il finale, potete ben capire, non mi convince del tutto.

c’erano una volta un principe e una principessa.

i due parlavano lingue diverse, lei faceva parte del regno dei ragni, lui di quello delle farfalle.

fell in love, he loved her long legs and a number of supple, she loved her sensitive antennae and its large colorful wings.

he was intrigued by the soil moist and fertile realm of spiders and wanted to be part of it at least in part.

plane she was curious and surprising realm of butterflies and wanted to be part of it at least in part.

fell in love in an enchanted silence, quietly got married and everyone thought, including two of them, that this silence meant an understanding to a deeper level, that needed no amplification.

quietly built the Their house, a long and wide tunnel dug into the trunk of the tree top, with lots of windows where he could explain his wings, colorful, soft and protected niches intangible cobweb lace, where you will find their little love.

were happy, they trusted each other in silence.

he, quietly and without guilt, began to fly further afield, attracted by the sounds of his magical world of butterflies and driven by the nature of insect that flies, and she scared and dumb that the only language used knew and began to spin sticky webs encrusted succulent leaves and insects in the foolish attempt to detain him e trattenersi.

durò poco.

in silenzio si separarono, lei si arrese davanti alle forze magiche che non poteva combattere, lui si arrese di fronte allo spavento della tela tessuta, sempre in silenzio, senza pensare che lui avrebbe potuto insegnare a lei a gioire del suo volo, e se lei avrebbe potuto insegnare a lui a godere del calore benefico delle ragnatele che si dice siano molto efficaci per i dolori alle ossa: lei se ne andò piano, sulle sue lunghe zampe flessuose, voltandosi indietro alcune volte, ma lui era già volato molto in alto.