Friday 27 January 2012

Dismantled reflections_on Mauritania*

On this land
Time has no value
Everything moves slowly
Even the grains of sand
Transported by the wind
From one dune to another

On this land
Dreams are weird
And they get weirder by the day
Dreams of mattresses, empty rooms
And fictitious characters
Coming to life, slowly

On this land
Misery creeps out slowly
To embrace you with its dark shadow
You cannot avoid the vibes of misery
But you can look at it from behind a lens
Everything looks beautiful behind a lens.










1 comment:

Far Beyond The Ridge said...

it's almost like a spirit takes hold of such a place and binds us to it.
maybe the lens makes it all a little less real
rick