i’m walking a thin line

May 20, 2007

i hate the days that push duna further back. the sand filled my sandals and i pretended it bothered me, but it didn’t. now i like that weird bridge with the guy that looks like caragiale and the way to hold on to the handrails and to carefully step between the heavy metal squares. the wind whirled in the hair and in my temples. i like especially one of the pictures. the one that catches the movement of the head and the light in the smile and the thin line of the neck. my words were windy too.

the camera felt shy and clumsy and the bridge short. i don’t remember having seen it under snow.


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