Siv Cedering

The night opens the pillow book and shows us ourselves. In stages of dress and undress our genitals seem to grow out of proportion. Flute of jade, moonflower The lucky numbers are odd. Three irises in the blue and white bowl in spring, chrysanthemum [...]

I will go to my mother's house. A white-haired woman will open the door. She will hesitate, wait until a light Will light her face. Am I her sister? Her mother? Her daughter? She will know I am someone close. She will know I have been there before. " [...]