Our personhood exists in a cyclic nature. As an eternal recurrence, our souls, ancient and woven, move through waves and loops, folding forward, backward, and inward on themselves. Whether in form or in thought, we always manifest in temporary states.
Patterns are bound to form, paths eventually repeat.
We occupy different spaces, take up different shapes; the definition of a home shifts as we coil towards honesty. Certain people feel inexplicably familiar at times because we must have known them before. The notion of “home” becomes tied to the presence of those who belong to us, and to whom we belong.
Time and time again, I return to who I belong to. We ingest each other’s exhaled air and sloughed skin. We ingest the skin of the tables and chairs of our shared room. Everything is succulent, we eat and are eaten in the end. A mundane vulnerability exists only here.
Then, I’ll take my leave once more. Discovering the integrity of private moments within the space we occupy together, a recurring domicile is the raw intimacy of each return.
Patterns are bound to form, paths eventually repeat.
We occupy different spaces, take up different shapes; the definition of a home shifts as we coil towards honesty. Certain people feel inexplicably familiar at times because we must have known them before. The notion of “home” becomes tied to the presence of those who belong to us, and to whom we belong.
Time and time again, I return to who I belong to. We ingest each other’s exhaled air and sloughed skin. We ingest the skin of the tables and chairs of our shared room. Everything is succulent, we eat and are eaten in the end. A mundane vulnerability exists only here.
Then, I’ll take my leave once more. Discovering the integrity of private moments within the space we occupy together, a recurring domicile is the raw intimacy of each return.
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