Ina Schroders-Zeeders

Leningrad Somewhere hidden in the wooden salt container that you bought for me that Winter, a smell of some sweet fungus mixed with a cheap perfume is waiting for shared memories, the kind I hope you will find somewhere too. Keep looking for them in the lines of old women’s faces, like those that folded […]

About these ads
Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 756 other followers