Photos: Johnny Gembitsky
Text: Kyle Searcy Washam
I am willing to touch and be touched. I am a small fire gaining air, popping sparks, groping to feed my heat. Reaching out for carbon in the dark, finding or not. Life meets me different than ever before. These days mark the discoveries of new planets, worlds not yet imagined. Old ground becomes new; from gravel to smooth. I step with the same feet I always had. Moving fast and faster except for the rocks in my shoes. Youth so ferocious and virile I love you. Teenage lightning strikes, brightest, fastest, most destructive—It’s fires burn wild. Most go out but some never die.This morning’s Manhattan’s got a nice breeze. it’s no secret I’m a sucker for wind, the same as kisses, the same as looking failure in the face and taking another drink. She came here for something, perhaps for glory, she came to get away from what was too heavy to bring