This girl has come and gone, been reshaped, reformed, dripped, changed skin tones, added with a face, taken a face away. Not sure what I've done with her arm. She's been liquid papered. But her expression is empty still. Is this my transitional state right now? Unsure of how I should feel. Unsure of how I should tackle her. So she sits and waits for me.
signed, the willow
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