“You might think to pull an artery between your palms would feel like rope, would feel like rubber. You might think that when you gently press the twine of it with your thumb and forefinger it would give way.
We are stronger than we give ourselves credit for, less easy to erase,
though how I may have dreamed sometimes of leaving no trace.
But a body is more than a mouthprint of breath left on glass, more than a halo.
But my body feels the earth burying my feet, the wind hard against skin, the roots of me inside the earth.
Feels it. A thousand neurons firing, a constellation.
The theatre of my memory holds me firm.
It roots me to the ground”
Words by: Sophie Mackintosh
Photos by: Damian Griffiths