"Secrets rise to the surface of my skin."
Skin as a personal map or history, which shares hints about the past.
This is a re-work of an old piece that lost meaning for me. I like the ambiguity in this version, the crossed through, original text alongside the new version.
I recently fell while running (which doesn't happen often) during a heat wave in New York. I've been watching the cuts on both palms heal, and thinking how amazing it is that our bodies know how to heal. Other than bandaids and cleaning the cuts, I've left my skin to repair itself.
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