When the shops lining the streets are shelters for the rain
And trickles of cold water slowly slip down on the glass as tears in the dark
And the night is lulled by the murmur of distant traffic
And air smells of ozone, and the elegant red haired lady suddenly turns and meet your eyes
And each one stares the other silently as the gaze gets deeper and addictive
And those eyes glitter as diamonds
And both hint a smile and the world fades away
Then there is magic around.
(* Two photographs overlapped - waiting for the final one)
Stories and novels, stories and shades of words. Sapphire can be a voice, a whisper, a night talk. Colours in words, words merged and melted with pictures. Words as colours, words as shapes sometimes overlapping with the visual experience. A different way to see the world or, maybe, just the very same way using different tools and finding different paths.