She looks so beautiful while she talks about the things she loves.
She looks like a sultry lamppost while she talks about the things that makes her forget the homes.
I remember I had a friend who used to come to all the dingy and corrupted places I have been…
I guess he could never master the art of loving places more than the people.
She is more like that friend.
Persuasive and real…like wind.
I remember when she gets close all the shadows of this room gets soothing and available.
She is more like that abstractness which mocks at the words and expressions…
I am going to touch her in a while and I am going to get the stars on my ass.

…………………………………………………………….

Photograph: Serge Thiery.

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