The Room We Desire

The Room We Desire

I am her angel
On the wooden floor
In the marble colour of dust
I see her impatient footprints
Ignited by her sins

I am her shadow
Curtains breathing heavily
Hiding her instincts from the sun
Her lips circulating
Affectionately she search on

I am her refection
Blindfolded by the hundred
She is almost out of air
Broken into pieces
Vulnerable throughout the skin

I am her desire
Born out of darkness
Light returning home
The room we resist
Nothing can go wrong

PHOTO’S: Sila Yalazan // @silayalazan
POEM: Steen Andersen // @just_another_alter_ego