Kintsugi, by Maria Papachristodoulou 

​​"Dust, fading, cracks. Dusting off, polishing, tape.Skin, hair, scent. Cream, dye, cologne. M a t t e r . It’s what reveals time. Its muddy and heavy steps leave marks upon it. I see them, smell them, hear them, touch them, taste them. M e m o r y.Movement, air, encounter, pause, silence. D e c a y. A palimpsest of events and occurrences,Aging. M a t u r i t y. A palimpsest of experiences, encounters, relationships, life. Decay  doesn’t mean an end. Decay means life. Life passes through here and won’t stop passing until it expires.Ends. Decay.Trauma. A form of decay. A  c r a c k The crack is not necessarily a wound. How many things have left their mark on our bodies, marks that are signs? Tiny little scars or big ones that have half-healed yet now are part of us. A burn on your hand from cooking your favorite meal, a prick from a rose bush where you once hid as a child.A slip on the stairs, and your hip still hurts. Memory. Bitter, sweet,smelly, fragrant,scruffy, groomed,wrinkled, infant-like, and desperate."