nine percent
The sky above the city hangs low, heavy and droopy, like a damp towel forgotten under the radiator. City
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in cochineal
The clouds hung low over the industrial district like tired, heavy pieces of gray felt. There was a muffled cough in the distance
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Buckwheat honey
Everything does not start immediately. First, movement. That strange, almost effortless gliding…
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Self -Botany
In the morning, the sun on the table draws a long, sharp rectangle. It lies a photo.
Yesterday she looked like…
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Liturgy of everyday life
Eight in the morning. The coffee is barely lukewarm in the palm of your hand. He rolls out of the corner. A small, white, humming god, …
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