There’s secrets we hide under this skin.
Swallowed tears and oceans. Chants and earthquakes.

Yet, the secrets I often find are in between breaths and prayer.
Alchemised in our folklore and decoded in our beads - transcended into patterned clothe - spread through our beliefs.

We are spells

carrying keys beneath these tongues that could unlock time and serenade the gates of heaven. Songs that make us meet the avatars that linger in our bones - wishing to dance their way into the days that we now breathe.

Our, history, lives in us. Heaving in the vernacular we almost forgot.

Our history, is being reborn in Shamanic spirits coloured in Indigos, browns and blues. We are Prophets and Holy Souls. Dreamers and See’ers. Amens and Ase O’s.

It finds us through our mothers’ hymns and fathers’ laughter. Hides in our grandmother’s bedtime stories. Is reborn in the waves that lick the shore.

We are the eclipse.
We are the shadow.
We, are the black hole.