Reza Tajiki
Reza Tajiki
In an alley of the city, in the soft light of the seventh hour,
where the weary sun touches the walls with tenderness.
The world a blank canvas, ready,
to give birth to an image of longing and breath.
An image full of wide windows,
of deep shadow and golden gleam.
And you...
you are the heart of the colors,
the living motif in the soft play of light and dark.
