Author Description

Skeletal hands reaching for land, within a cottage my reflection stares back at me. Someone left the lights off...the moon drapes itself over sheer glass. A silent wish and a death that lasts. Melted butter in a silvery pool, swirling as it crawls on through. Worn paper and cigarette ash, remnants of childhood toys and splintered masks. Swept under furniture, monotonous tasks...discarded wrappers and VHS tracks. Under the grain...under the grain...under...the grain. Blinking eyes, smirking grin...a reflection...a witness...a sin. Cut to the left, scissors and satin skin. Put to the flame, the show begins. Cigarette burns and warped glass, reflections that fade into the past. www.josefdesade.com