Abyss / New Born

Now fading

Touch turning into
fingers melting into skin

Burning through flesh

Marking our bodies

like
ash traces

like sod from The Spreading Fire

Transitioning

Going, going, gone

I have only just begun

Oh how sorrowful and exciting

this parting

Sounds of tears and snorts coming from my right

As we sigh our goodbyes

visually impaired

Am I

mist clouding my insides

blurring vision

blocking out ..

preventing me from realizing that this is the end

ever so melancholic and nostalgic

how I love and cherish this state

But I do fear it as well

I have carved out tunnels in myself

inner erosion

tender loving care

comfort

cracking

standing in front of an abyss

together

falling alone

safety

belonging

fitting together
so perfectily warped
into a collective poetic body

now scattered across the floor

or the roof

of the cosmos

like a planet swallowed up by a black hole

now transforming into something new

another kind of life

like a ray of light or

pearly dew drops on rose petals

footprints in clay

I remember

the fields

the feels in the fields

the early days; with coconut oil and charcoal

one big poetic mess

in the Nest

dreamy eyes

wild hearts

voracious appetites

quivering bodies

pulsating minds

alertness turned aloneness turned aliveness turned a

i don’t know where to end this rant

maybe

here:

The Rose

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In the fall, Sisters Hope will contribute to the symposium ‘Experience as a Source of Knowledge in Aesthetic Research’ at Lund University, which will be followed up by a workshop.

Digging in the sand under stones. Layers of earth, layers of Words. Cascades and fire charged with rage. The unprocessed has awakened. The hidden, the past. Here is the end of discharge. The deep repository secret. Connection. Engage. Create the new. The vision of a new civilization. The sustainable. Everything that will be…