Sakura

When standing under the old trees, the layers of flower petals look like women’s underwear, transparent to the sky above.

NOBUYOSHI ARAKI

Here, in my solitude

It oozes out of me like a broken tube of toothpaste; it doesn’t want to stay within the confines of my body. A strange feeling of weight and volume. Soul volume perhaps, which rises like clouds of smoke and envelops my body.

INGMAR BERGMAN