Gaea – Text by Clara D’Ambrosio
Gaea swayed voluptuously, accompanied with her graceful movements the melody of the blackbirds and the chirping of cicadas.
The Calabrian heat enveloped her body, and her dry skin craved that dew that she had been waiting for too long.
She loved to let herself be touched lightly by the herds who, with respect and veneration, fed on her flesh and plowed, slowly and yet firmly, her hips, welcoming and maternal.
The heat had transformed her clothes. She perceived the arrogance of the passing of time along her shoulders, since the lush green of the spring meadows had given way to a dazzling golden dryness.
That dress made her ethereal.
Yet not the black crows, nor the pregnant heifers had dared to interrupt that ancestral and divine dance, but another creature, anything but reverent, forced to himself that once indomitable goddess, making those hips barren, once vital and welcoming.
The melody of the crows and the creatures that lingered along her figure was replaced by the ferruginous squeak of the tractors that stripped her of her dress made of light.
All that remained was cold nakedness and deafening silence.
Clara D’Ambrosio
Pietro D’Ambrosio
Pietro D ‘Ambrosio (@pietro_dambrosio_fotografo) • Foto e video di Instagram
