Second Hand Jackets
- 80 Views
Stray cats masquerading in chiaroscuro paintings. There's a hole so deep in the pavement, I wonder how many layers are beneath it. Suddenly demons of antiquity illuminate the construction machines. They pierce my pockets for change. Relics still in fashion; our second hand jackets. But the warehouses are abandoned under the towering expansion. And as they grow so too shadows, a playground for the vagrants. Three kings are parading, and I for one am waiting. For the ashes and straw that remain there. I lost everything in your hypnotic stare.