Earthen shell
this mass of sinew and tissue
I have seen most clearly
the scars that mark you.
Yet I love every imperfection
as if they were lined in gold.
Do not shrink from me,
my clay-made image
though dust you will become
I rejoice in our withering
as I should have rejoiced in our youth.
Sasha = Half-feral, visual memoirist and earth mystic with a talent for offending people unintentionally. I have a BA in English with emphasis on psychology and mythology and I will likely spend the rest of my life studying the intimate weaving between those three fields and marinating in my own personal folklore.
I believe art is a sacred practice of presence that emerges organically through the audacity to believe that your lived experience is worthy of witness.
