Cruelly,Love
cruelly,love
walk the autumn long;
the last flower in whose hair,
they lips are cold with songs
for which is
first to wither,to pass?
shallowness of sunlight
falls,and cruelly,
across the grass
Comes the
moon
love,walk the
autumn
love,for the last
flower in the hair withers;
thy hair is acold with
dreams,
love thou art frail
—walk the longness of autumn
smile dustily to the people,
for winter
who crookedly care. |Edward Estlin Cummings|

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Published by Nassia Kapa
Nassia Kapa is the woman who writes this blog. She gets obsessed with songs she imagines herself living in and plays them on repeat mode. She loves coffee with an ice cube, airports, hugs and long kisses, would never say no to gin and tonic, to story telling book covers and shoes. By changing pair of shoes, you walk in different pace, directions and you see new people from another point of view. She lives in south London and loves taking long walks in neighbourhoods she has never been before.
Passionate about poetry in words, in feelings, in body language.
Touched by anything that can make her brain molecules obey her heart's strong will. Lost in Opera arias and ballet. Drunk in jazz and art.
Hello, my name is Nassia. I am not a photographer. I just feel, it happens to have a camera around.
© All of my photographs are Copyrighted and All Rights Reserved. They may not be used or reproduced publicly in any way without my written permission.
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