Qui dove mezzo son...

qui, dove mezzo son... A piece in the form of a Petrarchan sonnet – 14 lines: a group of eight (a grievance, a doubt) then six (resolve, acquiescence), written in vernacular, not in Latin. 

Here, where I'm half myself, my Sennuccio
(if only I were here entire, and pleasing you)
I've come escaping the storms and winds
this cruel weather has suddenly sent us.

The first four lines from the sonnet of the same name; in Il Canzoniere, the title by which the sonnets are collectively known, all things float within the orbit of Petrarch's obsessive love; relative to this, there is no objectivity, no unfiltered light, no singularity, only presence, absence, degree. This work was composed for Anja Brezavšček, with much love.

-Paul Clift