en dk
My lover and I, deciding for a day that the revolution could wait for us up ahead, and spending the interceding moments laying on a table in an abandoned school, with rubble strewn about below us. Distant gunfire and the crackling of glass beneath boots can be heard, as we drift off into the same dream. The light is cold, the world is colourless, and our bodies remain fixed coffins, housing sorrowing thoughts of the inevitable. Though my eyes still are closed, my lips move each day to plead with you: "Come back..."