Airports
Joaquín Maíto
You’re sitting, waiting, listening to the loudspeakers. The terrace is dark, from the buildings they applaud and sing the hymn. A box found on the street. A black cat. The motor of an airplane. The essay for a symphony.
Joaquín Maíto
You’re sitting, waiting, listening to the loudspeakers. The terrace is dark, from the buildings they applaud and sing the hymn. A box found on the street. A black cat. The motor of an airplane. The essay for a symphony.