Caitlin Leishman

Can a smile be faked?

I took for granted

The chair that carries me,

I take your hand.

He knew her before I did.

Don’t wait for me.

Had Picasso painted a bird.

I’m still waiting, we all are…

We lose it, manage it, save it, waste it, then wish we had more of it. Time has become a kind of slippery, anxiety inducing method of measuring life, constantly grappled with.

Flakes of red get caught in the deep ravines of her upper lip…

You’ll be told to say hello to everyone
look them in the eye,
Smiling at a small community - earn your place.
But please don’t tell them everything,
just in case.

A million years to form, a blue sapphire takes a fingerprint

from the meta-rock around it, while the titanium seeps in. 

It’s not so much that the thread is loose… it’s the weighing potential for it to completely unravel. And it’s not only that it could unravel, but that it could do so at an uncontrollable moment, poking a hole in your somewhat crafted self-assurance. Leaving it flailing.

Rocks underground push to negotiate their place.

A burst of energy, 

a warning?