Kinstillatory Gathering
Kinstillatory gathering spaces, wishful thinking through dimmed light, making meaning out of the shadows because sometimes shadow-glyphs are all that we have left as our means for time travel. Ancestors peeking through cedar, “sometimes she hears them voicing and claims that she felt a tickle from her ancestor on her back.” Her dreams I pay attention to over my own. Leaves have traces too, they have memories written in the curves, contours and veins. Their smell is like old paper, yet sweeter, and in the winter, I long for their touch. If I place this
