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