..
now i drift beneath the neon sighs of pigalle,
where the nights are velvet
and the secrets are never kept.
..
but i’m not always here-
a mirage teleporting from place to place- berlin, london-
maybe i’m already in your city,
heels on wet pavement, chasing the way darkness holds light.
..
every shot is a slow song, each frame a place i almost called home.
there is something so eerily strange yet comforting
about sharing this light with strangers under the dark blanket of the night.
...