false historiesIn the city, I search for myself and cannot find her –
shoes tapping against cobblestone pavements and beads of
sweat like a crown atop my forehead, I forage street after
street, a cartographer with two handfuls of faulty maps.
(...)
Tamara Bašić
she/her; 26; vicious daydreamer
Croatia
Selected work (28 publications)
the sculptorat the break of dawn, as sunlight stretches slowly
over the coasts of your body, I begin to run.
(...)
nine views (or how to eat the solar system for breakfast)There is a city both big and small enough to hold the entire
solar system in its hands, and there is a woman lovesick enough
to steal the universe and offer it to the man that she loves.
(...)
the graveyard always hungers for morecw; death
(...)
My mind still dips its paintbrush into wrong colors– for a moment,
my mother’s voice sounds like someone else. For a moment, I expect
ghosts to come out of the room whose vacancy I’ve occupied,
time to rewind itself back to wh