London Dawn

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Time for the 2nd part of my London project, which will reflect the darker side of the city, somber and gloomy.

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The useless dawn finds me in a deserted streetcorner; I have outlived the night.

Nights are proud waves: darkblue topheavy waves laden with all hues of deep spoil, laden with things unlikely and desirable.
Nights have a habit of mysterious gifts and refusals, of things half given away, half withheld, of joys with a dark hemisphere. Nights act that way, I tell you.

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The surge, that night, left me the customary shreds and odd ends: some hated friends to chat with, music for dreams, and the smoking of bitter ashes. The things my hungry heart has no use for.

The big wave brought you.

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Words, any words, your laughter; and you so lazily and incessantly beautiful. We talked and you have forgotten the words.

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The shattering dawn finds me in a deserted street of my city.
Your profile turned away, the sounds that go to make your name, the lilt of your laughter: these are the illustrious toys you have left me.

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I turn them over in the dawn, I lose them; I tell them to the few stray dogs and to the few stray stars of the dawn.
Your dark rich life…

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I must get at you, somehow: I put away those illustrious toys you have left me, I want your hidden look, your real smile –that lonely, mocking smile your mirror knows.”

From: Two English poems by Jorge Luis Borges (1934)

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Photography by Shani Sadicario

Hair and Make up Amit Ben Yakar

Hair products Toni & Guy

Trench coat burberry

Shoes: Mary shoes

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