Crowded cafes, beautiful people, green hair, red cups, I set
time backward...I am turning the pages of a glossy magazine I am inside photographs watching unreality around me. Shops sell diamond salt from the
mines of Kashmir, there is a Papier-mâché table before me, black chandelier
above me, person in front of me eating a donut, he dissolves into an artist in
Mont Royal eating pumpkin cheesecake who crumbles into an architect from Mile End
drinking cappuccino, they have silver hair, their faces are paper white, they wear
coal black, they look alike and multiply...then their faces melt, like pumpkins
after Halloween, there is a deer skull on the shelf.
Autumn. Flowers like my dreams at night retain their
structure, the desaturation button moves slowly, slowly to the
left.
