THE PEFORMANCE
I learned how to hold my body,
before I learnt why it was watched.
Stillness rehearsed as invitation,
angles taught like scripture.
Give them what they came for,
before they ask,
a softened mouth,
a posture that apologises for
taking space.
It is muscle memory.
It is survival dressed as spectacle.
I perform because the room expects it,
because silence feels louder than consent.
THE REDUCING
Here, I am no longer whole.
I am cropped.
A section.
A detail pulled from the body
and named the body itself.
They keep what is useful
and discard the rest,
voice, history, resistance.
I become surface,
texture,
something consumable ,
without consequence.
Reduction is quieter than violence,
which is why it works so well.
Nothing is taken by force.
It is simply never returned.
THE OBSERVER
Here, I am no longer whole.
I am cropped.
A section.
A detail pulled from the body
and named the body itself.
They keep what is useful
and discard the rest,
voice, history, resistance.
I become surface,
texture,
something consumable ,
without consequence.
Reduction is quieter than violence,
which is why it works so well.
Nothing is taken by force.
It is simply never returned.
