“We’re each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion trying to emerge into something solid, something real.” Libba Bray
Inarticulate
I still exist.
Image and identity
At odds,
A struggle.
I, a fluid form
With no contours.
Inarticulate
I still exist.
Image and identity
At odds,
A struggle.
I, a fluid form
With no contours.