Carine Topal – Belye Nochi

Belye Nochi Streets glazed with brine, the reek of a dead wren, and cabbage. Midnight pearls down the narrow channels of Leningrad. It is August. Moonless white nights skulk along the walk to December Street. Further down, the boulevard and the bread-stand. Our bodies are fugitive regrets: true morning will come with its rusted sun […]