Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

The Eyes of Keyholes

TYPESETTER

I have all the words, in all their nuances, but there is nothing to speak anymore.

It’s clear I’m in pitch darkness, the only light - the eyes of keyholes. It’s unclear which side the precipices are on. I have all the keys, I keep them in coded safes. But I find it harder and harder to love: there is no one to open them to anymore.

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