Oh, that quarter of the city wounded by its own sexuality.
Every street filled with shadowy characters: hungry scavenger birds looking to devour each other’s flesh.
Exposed skin and uttered sexual desires; bodies becoming their own souls’ mortuaries; a type of grotesque Greek tragedy whose protagonists lacked the nobility heroism bestows upon us.
It was painful to imagine what kind of wounds could reduce a thousand of Petrarch’s Lauras to infantile despondency.
Excerpt from the manuscript Glass Lovers
imagine: Kozlik; Shutterstock; [link]