dreamtalking with my mouth sewn shut
I believe in the wholesomeness of uncertainty, in its protective properties and thorns on the inside, I believe… No, I don’t believe in anything, even in myself. The one thing I know is that the river really had turquoise colour and the sky had come down so low that the snails felt as if floating in heaven and my water surface could not be set on fire. I also know that I am a vector quantity that has too much kinetic energy and that the moon looked like half-open eye of a dead man ; the stones talked to me in unknown languages I don’t need to learn since I perfectly understand. Tiny wounds all over my skin sing with their small voices and I wonder whether to draw myself two-dimensional in the plane and then thrust myself between the pages of a favourite book… This I couldn’t help but associating with thighs – already in colour and 3D.
Poetry by Maria Dimova
Collages by Vanya Georgieva-Michel
12,5 x 18,5 cm (4.9 x 7.3 in), 88p.
Edition of 100, indekeuken editions, 2012
Risograph print @ PTTL
€ 12 + shipping