The Speed of My Life

This series of photos is inspired by one of my poems: The Speed of My Life To my parents who had left me so early I couldn’t see them clearly Some day, evening or all of a sudden you will meet me at the end of the tunnel (as the ones returning from there had told). And then you’ll ask me if I’m sure I’ve been happy? I say, no, you can’t talk there, but I feel the hesitating “yes.” The pain is there as a sin, which I didn’t succeed to overlive. I speak fast (actually, I couldn’t talk, I think intensively) to fit into the few minutes earthly time before you push me towards the light, I get confused I recall small things, the big ones shove out to the end for unforgiven clay prints of occurrences and people, close and not so close, about unwashed wine stains drunk with pity. I complete the left unfinished sentences, the left unfinished knitted shawls, It’s paid for the lost loves, debts and other debts, I even skip the sea. The roads remain I walk to look for the childhood of my child at your Sahara at mine Sahara sand in-between my teeth I tell him about his taste I’m a ramshackle bridge His fronts are high Your edges are far So far away I believe You both hear the music that he lives with I search new words new definitions to translate my digital life of our family slang from the times of our horizontal conceptions.