There was a light reflection in my room
which connected me to the past.
A memory, nothing clear at first sight.
Then the wish to be deep in the city, surrounded
by old stones, dust and millions of people.
I find myself where I feel lost and time
just seems to crawl.
Here I am. With a dry tongue I feel
the simpleness of eternity.
The sarcophaguses laying in
the dark deepness of the catacombs
in the outskirts tell us a story of dimensions.
In the composition of freedom there is no rhythm.
And suddenly I‘m astonished to find myself
somewhere else.
Illustration by Galya Popova
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