They face each other, the two of them. I can only make out forms. A Rorschach image. In the middle of a path surrounded by trees smudged together, bushes bonded by dusk. The branches, feint veins awash in a dimming sky. Nothing defined. The residue of truth. In between the figures a glint of light. They look as if they're standing inside themselves, a fainter form, a wraith of their bodies aglow against the living shapes.
Photo by Kristian Jordan
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dawntraitor/8387727227/in/photostream
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