*𝔰𝔞𝔡 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔞𝔫 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔠 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔤𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔡*

bro is the shadow of the waxwing slain by the false azure in the windowpane

I can't tell you how I knew But I did know that I had crossed The border. Everything I loved was lost But no aorta could report regret. A sun of rubber was convulsed and set; And blood-black nothingness began to spin A system of cells interlinked within Cells interlinked within cells interlinked Within one stem. And dreadfully distinct Against the dark, a tall white fountain played. Pale Fire Vladimir Nabokov Polaroid - One Kindred Sprit

pale fire, colored pencil on paper, 2023

📷 mine