made for the competition
he coins, the stick, the keychain, the quick lock, the later notes that they can not read my few days, playing cards and chess board, a book and the pages dried violet, monument of a certain evening unforgettable and forgotten, the red in the west mirror in which burns illusory an aurora. How many things, atlases, lime, thresholds, cups, nails, they serve as tacit slaves, without eyes, strangely secret! They will last beyond our forgetfulness. They will never know that we we left.
(Jorge Luis Borges)poem
also joined the competition with these photos
Copyright : Fabio Secchia
Taken : March 5, 2017, 11:44 am
Uploaded : 1 year ago