IS IT JUST ME OR IS IT GETTING TOO PERSONAL IN HERE...

I wanted to make, create and collect things.

Frame them, place them carefully on display and store them in my pocket.

Bamboo boxes, dirtied feathers, dripping paintings.

When I found you my eyes squinted and the shadows from the sun played upon the angular creases.

I could see you, but only slightly. Everything was too bright. White.

I knew I could never keep you.

I hold glimpses of you in the obsidian stone resting on my palm

or your breath in the bristles of a brush.

-ANNA F-S