mercredi à arpège
These white truffles cost me a goddamn fortune. 
Filed under:

la robe
Je viens de jeter une robe. Correction :  je viens de poser une robe dans un point de collecte d’Emmaüs, situé au coin d’un bloc près de chez moi.  Je suis sortie en me disant, “Tiens, il faut voir le soleil au moins une fois avant qu’il se couche. Il faut sortir au moins cinq minutes.” 

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Filed under:
nostalgia, français

it will always stop raining
There is only way to walk, with your head up, your shoulders strong, like you are exactly where you are supposed to be.
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l’automne pantinois
There are moments when the autumn light is like the softest, kindest, most reassuring whisper...
Filed under:
pantin, seasons

I wasn’t expecting to cry.

I laid a stake in theses cobbled streets the way an astronaut plants a flag on the moon.

Look at you Sarah, look at how you’ve grown: thick-skinned, silver tinsel in your hair, money just numbers floating in the air. 

A temporary installation.
A temporary summer.
A temporary life. 
Filed under:
poetry, paris, portraits © 2021
(there are other sarah rose’s, but this is the new one)