photo : Morocco
Today. Light. Even in winter one gets tired of the sand, cold like grated stone. We think of others, then we thing of ourselves. We ask ourselves what we think of others, then we wonder what others think of ourselves.
photo : Morocco
Today. Light. Even in winter one gets tired of the sand, cold like grated stone. We think of others, then we thing of ourselves. We ask ourselves what we think of others, then we wonder what others think of ourselves.
(photo: Essaouira, Maroc, 2019)
the words are waiting
in the dusty library
for eternity
you are hearing stories
that you weren't even listening to
with an attentive ear
belated tears
between the porcelain trinkets
"how much for the cup?"
in the strange light
of late afternoon
then you resume your tasks
of the day and of the evening
you remember all the confidences
you did not want to receive