My art is my salvation. My art cannot answer questions. My art is made through me but it is not defined by me. My art told me it thinks you’re hot. My art is friends with my childhood quilting teacher. My art eats my sadness. My art pulled the tower card. My art wants to hold you. My art does not know what Zoroastrianism is but has met Anahita. My art feels love. My art is soft like the body I have. My art goes swimming at Wollaston Beach. My art has two favorite songs: Come a Little Bit Closer and Suck My Left One. My art processes trauma. My art threw a dinner party. My art knows my end. My art sees the world in infinite colors. My art craves Italian beef with extra au jus. My art talks to my ancestors. My art yearns to be understood. My art touches you tenderly. My art will not save me.
