voices like fog, faint above the highway
lawns suffocate the desert beneath
pastel stuccos ache in salt air
tourists on their way to the next town,
they don’t stop here
picking sand from our hair, i squint to the sun
the wind stings our faces
you speed down the street with eyes shut tight
your braid on my wrist
we chase after no one
Photography and Text by Hart Lëshkina
Junya Watanabe for ssaw
Styling by Zara Mirkin
AMIRI WES LANG Book
Photography and Art Direction by Hart Lëshkina
Published by Rizzoli
500 pages printed in Italy
voices like fog, faint above the highway
lawns suffocate the desert beneath
pastel stuccos ache in salt air
tourists on their way to the next town,
they don’t stop here
picking sand from our hair, i squint to the sun
the wind stings our faces
you speed down the street with eyes shut tight
your braid on my wrist
we chase after no one
Photography and Text by Hart Lëshkina
Junya Watanabe for ssaw
Styling by Zara Mirkin
AMIRI WES LANG Book
Photography and Art Direction by Hart Lëshkina
Published by Rizzoli
500 pages printed in Italy