TWO SLOW DANCERS

MEDIUM: 6B PENCIL, AGED PAPER

“A crumpled, decaying letter carrying the weight of tenderness and hazy memories. The kind you keep tucked in your pocket, in the back of a drawer, underneath a bed. Beneath each word is a prayer (a question): Your name (It rolls off my tongue, makes a home between my teeth) Your address (Do you feel the burden of this distance between us?) Small talk (We danced that morning, is your family well?) A polite goodbye (Do you remember me despite this all? Does the love remain or become a footnote?) A promise to ruminate what was once was, or what will be. This piece was made with a 6B pencil held together by masking tape, drawn on aged paper with my very own graphite-smudged fingertips.”

Lana, 19, Near the Equator ✯ IG: @aruminni & aruminni.mailbox@gmail.com 

“A cryptid haunting an archipelago; armed with lost-and-found art supplies at all times. Perhaps, maybe, also, debatably, a teenage girl nearing her 20's.”