The Dark Angels are a come and go crew. They create then disappear like street art. Their works exist in fragments, particles that float, dust motes that spin before the wind that blows them to faraway places. They are individuals that work as one. Deep as oceans, as impenetrable as the night. Art urchins and poets, they dissolve before they form. They are the Dark Angels, they are discharge.They are a bloody mouthful.
Thursday 19 May 2011
Hors-sujet
Sous ce ciel ouvert à l'attraction, là où naissent et meurent nos ardeurs, je tourne vers toi mes yeux fermés.
De tes absences, de tes ombrages, de ton emprise je me nourris. Rien ne change sauf le songe.
2 comments:
"Rien ne change sauf le songe."
Oui...
Love u
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