“One gave oneself time, one lost oneself, one followed the sun, one fell asleep so often on a bed of straw, and now, how fresh is the memory of wind one might say that the rain hissed a long silence… — Claude Esteban Copy Share Image
“One gave oneself time, one lost oneself, one followed the sun, one fell asleep so often on a bed of straw, and now, how… — Claude Esteban Copy Share Image
“Someone, and no matter who, inhabits my head like it’s an empty house, he enters, he leaves, he bangs each door behind him, powerless… — Claude Esteban Copy Share Image
