Tamara Stamenkovic
  • A butchered dream can last a lifetime if you nourish it well

    I feel your movements inside me, meaty taste of obedience, fractal dynamics of the ballerina. I see your bloody miniature feet leaving traces around me, at a rapid pace, and every footprint tells novels. I see you scraping your nails over the edges of your own of pre-coded existence not knowing what you’re missing until…

  • On the other side of the mirror

    An unknown dimension in which black color diffract with all shades of darkness, and enter inside, that scene greeted him first. Dark spots in blue pupils from looking too long into a double-sided mirror spilled over his cheeks. The skin on his lips fluttered, cracking each capillary in his eyes, giving the unusual contrast of…

  • I had a dream

    I had a dream, in the broken, cold-blooded world. About a world without cracks. Where the laughter of limitless dreamers resonates and becomes the sound which breaks down into countless keys. A dream of a world where integrity runs in people’s hands, and it doesn’t run in the bloody rivers of immorality. A world where…