Mark(s) of absences, Mark(s) of hope, Mark(s) that tore us, not too sure; for better or for worse? A mark that left us with rivering pain, A mark that stained us till this very day We move with life, we move with the pain; the marks that never seemed to leave us; permanent and insane….

What part of the body am I ?

I am connected to myself I pump dark red substances around in circular motion, The art which plays a huge part in my life. I care about important things, people and places, The trace that fills the empty spaces. I carry passion and love, A expression of doves that flies up in the skies, Peeking…