We talked and talked freely and openly;
painting and printmaking; drawing and inspiring.

We have an intimate yet universal relationship about one moment;
like a person sitting in front of me, with a transient smile over FaceTime.

I buried those moments under layers forgetting how the sun felt
the day I sat there, yet so attractive I made them with hands.

I layered them with sharp, hazy memories and recorded snap-shot photos;
I constantly established my distance physically and emotionally, yet

my thought and experience pushed back, created a cycle of an intimate
back-and-forth dialogue between myself and my art,

a dialogue of cutting, pasting, pushing,
dragging, dripping thickly-laid and scraped-away paint.

And I know, I know, I know that there may be much, or there may be only traces
of history left visible in these mastered line arts.

Found Poem from: “Lingering presence that exhibits the features [of an immortalized moment]” -Kathy Liao

Photo by Antonio Francisco