I think of the nights that insomnia won.
In the days we spent at home
On movie afternoons without listening to them
I think of the cries drowned out by the bathtub
In the empty bottles of every day
In unused cups
I think about what was said with a look
In what was not said
In what was left over
I think of what did not exist
In what we expected
In what we did not want
What would have been better
I think one is better than two.
Photography by Andrey Rachinskiy
