little bird.

It was cold, winter morning. I observed through the window how she got out of the cab. I opened the door and for the first time I saw her gentle eyesight - eyes cold as they were a frozen ocean. Then I allowed her sleepy body to lay down on my bed. Through the lens I followed her sad dreams.

I can`t speak to You with words yet, so allow me to tell about myself on these photos, on which I`ve enchanted this little, sad girl, who is within You (and is the reflection of myself - our trembling hands, eyes, seared from light, wet with tears, and mutilated bodies)