The wind was caressing her angel hair as she stood on the rooftop – her sanctuary. She went there to escape from the sin and chaos of New York.. She went there to forget about lovers, leavers and searchers.
Who is she? You asked..
Her thoughts brewed darkly, her innocence slowly drowned in anarchy. Clothed in sunshine, restless in desire. She could change you, estrange you, hold you, drop you. Just because.
She was tiptoeing around you, claiming her space. And you watched. You watched because she wanted something from you.
Perhaps, her angel voice hypnotized you. Rainbow glares, magic dreams, kaleidoscopic views. Are you watching? Closely. Her reality is as real as her fantasy. She had you under her thumb.
She looked at you with those siren eyes and you knew she was a miracle of the murky streets. A delirious scent of existence. A diamond in the rust.
While the sun sunk low, she took away your abiding interest in dreams and visions. “Run with me”, she said softly and quenched your thirst with a velvet kiss. Enjoyed the view? Love her hard, you understood.
Who is she? You asked. She was your rooftop, your sanctuary, your soft asylum. And the feather of her soft reply struck a chord in your now… broken heart.
Photography: Roos van Rij
Text by Evangelina Fysa:
All designs by The Lovers & Drifters Club