Faces looking at faces, faces, faces...
A crowd breaking shadows in the moonlight:
pale faces looking.
Have I been here before?
In this light, I’m trying to draw your face, but
there’s no wisdom in this brain, dear.
I know I’m a tired man in
a morning that comes too quickly.
I can’t remember your name,
my dear, my dream?
I’m trying to take a picture, but
I don’t know this place, I wasn’t here before!
I know this sensation. I’ve felt it before!
My head hurts, and
for now, I’m only waiting
for the miracle you
try to bring here again.
But I only remember the ties, goodbye...
I know I come from old kisses,
aged wrinkles on our cheeks.
I know I’m looking for the cartography
of your skin. The sound of your footsteps,
and I’m trying to forget:
Oblivion is our gift.
And I realized I forgot how to pray.
I’m playing with changing the name
of all the things in the world:
the rain is the cry,
the night is the black,
the pain, the love...
photography: "the way", kodachrome transparency and antipoema by © inercies_
