Torment

I wanted my image to be accompanied by an extract from Sylvia Plath´s poem - Insomniac:

¨His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.

Each gesture flees immediately down an alley

Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance

Drains like water out the hole at the far end.

He lives without privacy in a lidless room,

The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open

On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations¨

 

Image @Antoinette Castro

Image @Antoinette Castro