Lost Love Stations
The feeling called love builds fabulously beautiful bridges from loneliness to another. These bridges rarely built to last.
When love is lost, the globe and the heaven move a little and the line "Lost love - arrival" appears at one of the stations, somewhere very far from the world of people. We know neither the beginning of love nor its end, and each time passing by its essence.
Lost loves huddle where oblivion can be avoided. There is no time invented by people, and the intrusion of the absurd violates the geometry of common sense with a light touch, a glance, a smile, a barely indicated gesture, and dilated pupils.
Somewhere outside the human world, golden dew falls on the roofs, and echoing bridges of fulfilled and unfulfilled prophecies and settled contradictions, are carefully thrown through the darkness.
There hang dim mirrors, in which the mantles of passions, whispers, screams are barely reflected, and half-tones of lost love shine.