there’s two of us four, if you count our reflections . . Brian Bradley · D.R.E.A.M. photo / via morin.tumblr.com
Tag Archives: minimal
Justin Warnick | Separate Ways
. time has passed and I don’t know where I stand with the idea of still having remnants of you . . photo / Tamara Lichtenstein writing / berlin macuixtle (Thank You For Nothing Zine)
BvRTH | Bluiett
I moan a weird prayer for peace after all we deserve a new start We were here & looked right into the sun photo / Sumyko writing / FRANK SHERLOCK
Live Footage | Gold Pot
The flashes of the explosions are close enough to touch if you wanted to burn your fingers on the sky, and the glare rocks our shadows back against the brick, as if chaos snapped our pictures in the dark. photo / 美撒郭 writing / BILL ZAVATSKY
The Dreamless Sleep |Wounded Ocean (feat. Britt Warner)
I couldn’t answer you. Still. My lips moved at you silently. They offered words you never heard. writing / ELENA MINOR
Replicåh | Kinetic Love
everything has fallen apart – or maybe together, but it feels like a wreck I can’t bear to leave. I always go into the snake pit when I know full well the creature is full of poison even when it sleeps. photo / Yvone Shee writing / Anastasia Kontchaeva Continue reading “Replicåh | Kinetic Love”
Heavy Water Factory | Think Fast
i’m in the eye of this tame hurricane on the brink of the edge of the building where was your gaze when I came for you? photo / Edie Sunday SaveSave
Kel_SD | Upsydown
I knew i was going to die. and I wanted to do it in New York. whatever was going to happen, was going to happen. This is where the camera slows down, zooms in on the tennis ball grazing the net, in the middle of the court. will I go left or will IContinue reading “Kel_SD | Upsydown”
Bvrth | Eye Gouger
HAPPENS IN THAT BACKSEAT. DEVIL’S WORK, RED PANTIES. 365 HOURS A WEEK photo / (x)99. writing / Kendall Hill
Smok-Mon | Ensam
Fresh are the berries that we use to pick, from our daydream valleys. Filled with pauses and short breaths, when we roll in the dusty paths. photo / Piero Donadeo writing / Kendall Hill