troodos mountains

Transformations, bubbles of bursting colour colliding with each new step. These underwater paragraphs, pools of light in the night and every place is a sweeping sentence. Faces bobbing in rhythmic chasms, I am forcing the musculature to leap in unordinary ways, traveling for days and days. Calming my thoughts, unpredictable, I am in survival mode with adrenalin coursing through my sleepy system. Breathing in I watch the sky and the scope of stars that have changed slightly. Magnetic pulls of dream, the Troodos mountains haunt me, sanctuaries with paired deities and eyes that flash history. Darkness coats my arms and the noises whisper about the inevitability of tomorrow. Thrown into the morning for a moment forgetting where and when, the sound of wind and movement. The road a childhood wish, thinking back to adventures that held my imagination and propelled me. Here in tumbled time I feel alive and the tingled photographs in my mind will glide me back when I someday forget the taste of the sea.