Photo Essay

Second Sunrise

Manhattan, NY (West Village)

The world is a quilt, a little torn and frayed, foxed around the edges. Involuntarily, no, one by one we slip beneath the seam into that other world, between the sheets where pockets of air heat up and the body dissolves into dream. Once there, sockets relax, the whole of existence creaks like a bedspring, again, again, again...

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Hi there!

thought you might like this submission to JPG Magazine. If you do, vote it up!

http://jpgmag.com/stories/11494

Thanks,
—The JPG team

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