16 Aug 2022

Landing and landing on our feet, we finally find ease. We are brave boys in the Andes; we are women in an Italian back alley. If I stayed, you’d stay. If you walked, I’d walk. At the end of the string it gets longer, stronger, twirls, knots.

Two women look into a round mirror that looks like a porthole underneath a purple glass window, graffiti in the reflection. The woman in front is making a silly face.

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