Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Diary of a Companera (1)

Littering the pavements are relics of paper faces that visited a garden of tulips to immerse themselves in imaginary fragrance. The smiles stretching the faces dim with twilight, reluctant to identify with language or relation.

There is a degree of comfort in isolation. The companera tastes the scent of exile, and banishes herself to the island of contradictory landscapes.

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