9.6.22 // notes on identity •
i stand at the shore, waiting for the water to come to stillness — so that I may gaze into the eyes of whoever will be staring back at me. I gather guesses at who it might be.
but all my guesses are with words given to me, coined by others. words that may not suffice.
so I stand at the shore, waiting for stillness — so I can greet whoever appears with open arms and the new words they might bring.
portraits by the powerful @freechtle
