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Description
It was cold, winter morning. I observed through the window how she got out of the cab. I opened the door and for the first time I saw her gentle eyesight - eyes cold as they were a frozen ocean. Then I allowed her sleepy body to lay down on my bed. Through the lens I followed her sad dreams.
I can`t speak to You with words yet, so allow me to tell about myself on these photos, on which I`ve enchanted this little, sad girl, who is within You (and is the reflection of myself - our trembling hands, eyes, seared from light, wet with tears, and mutilated bodies)
I can`t speak to You with words yet, so allow me to tell about myself on these photos, on which I`ve enchanted this little, sad girl, who is within You (and is the reflection of myself - our trembling hands, eyes, seared from light, wet with tears, and mutilated bodies)
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825x518px 309.35 KB
© 2012 - 2024 laura-makabresku
Comments17
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The stories you tell with your photos are incredibly powerful. Thank you for showing people the places where curiosity and hopefulness mingle with hurt. It's a message we need to be reminded of as we interact with each other--so that hopefully we can be agents of healing instead of places where longing for healing takes and co-opts another person's journey and causes them greater pain.