from: serpil öztaş
title: airror, you said?
form: e-mail letter

I THINK I AM LATE. BUT I DON’T INTEND TO CATCH UP EITHER.

The area which I would like you to read in “Conversations with a Madam” that I am writing in the present, the region...

I DON’T KNOW IF OUR PATH CAN CROSS.

I refused to make love that night. What’s more, I did so without giving a damn to the silence on the other end of the telephone line, with a sarcastic tone in my voice...

–You mean once there were mirror shops every step of the way, and now all of them are extinct. You are right, madam!
-.........

(They were there when I began taking my first steps. I used to put dried carnations in front of them, and to begin getting undressed. They were my first witness, because SECRETS are perfectly safe with MIRRORS. THEY GIVE IT BACK NEVERMORE EXCEPT FOR THAT VERY MOMENT, THEY ARE NON-TRANSFORMABLE...

DETAILS OF THE WALL USED TO COMPLETE THE COLORS OF THE CARNATIONS.

THEN CAME MY NIPPLES WHOSE SCENT PERSISTED FOR A LONG TIME IN MY MEMORIES, IN WHAT THE MIRROR KEPT FOR ME, JUST FOR ME, NOBODY BUT ME.............)