
Boots · Patent Boots on a Snowy Balcony · 2 / 03
Hand at the Chin. Snow Under My Heels.
Turned sideways to you, my hand at my chin, my bun strict, the feather hem at the edge of the dress. I am thinking – not about whether I allow you to stay, but about for how long. The patent boots mirror the sky, and the snow shows every track: yours too.
You stopped a few steps behind me. Quietly. You think that is it. Sweet.
Here you see the moment before I turn around. When I turn, you have no excuse left – and the training begins...
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