Game of Mirrors
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WAITING

  1. While they wait, some of the women write the history of a circle with their cigarette smoke. The one looks through the wind as if she saw a turbid river destroying the city in its wake.

    I crossed the bridge to get here. I see the light from that window at exactly the same moment when the twilight turns to night.

  2. The dampness I feel in the fingers of my right hand is odd. It started off as something warm, but quickly starts turning into a scalding bite, like that of the coral-snake. My other hand falls asleep and its temperature drops, like the image of a wire that twists and gets lost in an Antarctic gust. First ice, then nothing. The fire, the void.

等待

  1. 当她们等待时,一些女人用她们的口中的香烟书写烟圈历史。她的视线穿过风就像她看到浑浊的河水随风正在毁灭城市。

    我穿过桥到达这里。我看到从那个窗户透出的光,而正在此刻黄昏转入了黑夜。

  2. 在我右手手指上感到的潮湿很奇怪。开始时它有些温暖,但是很快变成灼热的像银环蛇般的撕咬。 我的另一只手睡着了并且温度下降,很像在南极阵风中扭曲丢失的电线。首先是冰,然后归零。这火,这空虚。
Title Art
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WAITING

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Final Art
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