this day, this dusk. slowly I'm getting reconciled to the cold and the lack. for the 45 days after which there is you.
when you leave a place, the world seems to be slowing down. I have scenes from today before my eyes. cold hands of an Ukrainian woman. a fur dog toy in a shop window. a man at the post office, his daughter. it is when I become an affected school girl. which doesn't make my life easier at all.
images go faster and faster, the color gets blurred. the core stands still. it feels old. it tilts its head to the side and breathes quietly. it murmurs like the Tuvans and it knows somewhere there is you.
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