hand etching and printing is a fucking trip. there’s a physicality i didn’t quite understand until the churn of the wheel started and the bending of plate. and ink filling holes. or leaving them behind entirely.
I left my insides in a rat trap outside of our garage
only to find them
resurrected a few days later
into a face that resembled mine
but wasn’t
because of the poison maybe
or because they only saw me from time to time
or because discarded organs
weren’t meant for revival