Written by Jacob Ibrag
Black star, who do you think you are? Crickets sleeping in
the depths of your crater. We won’t see you coming. Hidden. Crashing
into the receptors of our central nervous system. I’d ask for your name and
yet this part seems familiar. A cobra chasing it’s own tale. Tail? Tale. Delivered
to uncover latent content. Uncomfortable. You won’t miss any of this, and
maybe you will. Name. It’ll come to me, the next time we do this.
Photography by Masha Sardari