A feeling deliciously bitter lingers on my tongue. It’s sharp relish urges me to keep my mouth shut and my conscience clear. Though how can one act so when one’s veins are stuffed with what’s not said before?
ZUZANNA SZOSTAK
I can truly see myself in that light, the green iris of my eye like a jungle, full of life. And when snow covers the green, and my skin looses its color I crave that wilderness in my eye.
