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Sweeper I also asked, as he made the picture, if they were to build something there.
No, no, I just like taking photos.
I smiled, smiled, and went stuck in my music, to look elsewhere.

I like taking pictures, I thought.
I love my city,
And although the little girl taught me otherwise,
I love talking to strangers.

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imagine life behind each window.

rooms, curtains, bedside tables.
Children, old, games, TVs on.
A shower running,
A kettle that whistles,
Music which are mixed by the patio.

Loneliness
Love,
Sex,
A woman slips a mocha, smoke
While her husband on the couch.

A faucet is broken,
girls who play at being bad, and tested
clothes in front of the mirror,
the closed door of his room.

Good morning, neighbor.
Good morning, neighbor.

you ever stop and think, I also I have a life?

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hope



The city also has secret corners
show only the most curious.

While no one looks at them,
hope.