Hortunas. Ismael photos Ejarque
Old things are always terrible. They nest in the soul, they spend years there, the old promises, the places old, old love. Become simple and perfect as a ring or a ball, or a margarita. And to look at, to find them again, we see that there are rotten, or broken, or forgotten, as we think, saved, intact fragments of our undying youth.
0 comments:
Post a Comment