more than me
for whom? For what?
my process is just a step
to know that it is not just for me
to see through the cracks
to experience without having it figured out
who are the people that are doing this?
important
who are the people who are not doing this?
more important
aesthetic inhabitation
for more than me
for whom? For what?
my process is just a step
to know that is not just for me
before stepping in
some way thinking I know what’s to come
because I know myself
I don’t know myself because I don’t fully know others
I want to see through the cracks
come please see through the cracks with me
so we won’t be alone
I know there are cracks
every time I figure them out
I don’t
the mountains have spoken to me in this way
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”We donate our flesh to the idea” the Sister says. This sentence keeps rummaging inside me. Making my stomage crumple together. It seems so definitely to donate our flesh, my flesh to the idea. But then I tell myself that it is not just an idea. It is a hope,…
Not a home, per say but a pyre on which to cast ones self and be immolated.