She was not made all at once.
Piece by piece, she gathered herself—
from moments, from memories, from things that stayed and things that slipped away.
There is no single origin, no fixed shape. Only a quiet construction, always in motion.
And still, she stands—
not finished, but fully her own.
She was not made all at once.
Piece by piece, she gathered herself—
from moments, from memories, from things that stayed and things that slipped away.
There is no single origin, no fixed shape. Only a quiet construction, always in motion.
And still, she stands—
not finished, but fully her own.
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