Trafika Europe 9/10 - UK in Europe

Beyond Elsewhere

The pact with the heavens is broken. Paradise escapes beneath our feet: a cursed wind insists on making us fall from above ourselves, with implacable patience. Month after month, every stone of our imaginary temple collapses in a slow attack on reality. With the last breath of passion, all that remains of our faces are fallen icons: two angelic visages torn by the blade of a love profaned to vestiges. Only our soulless faces and eyes remain, unable to withstand the vision of the fall. Only she and I remain: nothing. Nothing but the nausea whose sensation precedes the proclamation: the disenchantment.

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