Artist, Jill Lena Ford
Everyone’s emotions form differently,
there’s usually a center or a cloud of some sort
and then everything spirals out of control from there,
crystallization in every direction and turning in on itself;
Sometimes I think your emotions are the same as mine,
but with closer inspection I can see some shapes are off.
And when you pick up someone’s emotions, staring
into the spiking, twisting, angled geode
you’ll find that you understand the person no better
than you did before.
They’re just captivating, though, some tiring,
and I can’t stop picking them up.
I’ve mangled my hands all over yours,
but it seems I can’t stop picking them up.
They won’t stop growing wherever we’re going,
every one different, and lovely, awful, and off.