19 Januar 2013

The poets leave Hell. And again behold the Stars.

I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a sunday morning or a friday sunset. I'm a tuesday 2am, I'm a gunshot muffled by a few city blocks, I'm a broken window during february. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that i don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.  



Model: Linda M.O. (my sister) and Lena S. (friend of my sister);   shot with: Canon EOS 550d + EF 50mm f.1,8