I love thee, I love but thee with a love that shall not die;
till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.

W. Shakespeare



You taught me, a long time ago, not to interrogate my consciousness. There were troubling things there, you said, and I should stay away from them.
Here is my thought: maybe I should have said to you that you are like waves. You start from the centre, where the pebble suddenly meets the surface of my sea, to expand your existence in the wholeness of my ocean.

Text and photography by Marsia Sfakianou. Title of photograph: what is after 12: 00? All rights reserved.