Please Do Not Touch This Exhibit

Step into a world where the body itself becomes an exhibit, a site of wonder and scrutiny, both deeply personal and universally resonant. Here, the whispers of Victorian circus tents mingle with the sterile hum of hospital wards, creating a tapestry of experiences woven with the threads of folklore and the raw honesty of lived reality. It is a journey through deep seas and dark forests of the imagination, reflecting on how stories are built around trauma, how myths are forged from our most vulnerable moments.

Imagine a childhood marked by the constant presence of hospitals, a landscape of medical interventions and the quiet strength found within its confines. The poems invite you into these intimate spaces, revealing the sensations of a body that has been prodded, examined, and sometimes, misunderstood. There is a keen awareness of being observed, of one's physical form being categorized, much like the "exhibits" of old, yet always fiercely retaining a sense of self and an inner magic.

Later, the echoes of those early years resurface in the demanding landscape of IVF treatments. The hopeful waiting rooms and the emotional rollercoaster of fertility become another chapter in the body's ongoing narrative, a testament to resilience and the yearning for creation. Here, the personal pain is laid bare, yet it is always framed within a broader understanding of human experience, connecting individual struggles to collective histories of storytelling and endurance.

The collection delves into the potent imagery of disability, not as a limitation, but as a unique lens through which to perceive the world. It grapples with the historical tendency to "monster" those who are different, challenging these perceptions with unflinching honesty and poetic grace. You might find yourself wandering through poems that liken a falling clump of hair to a hedgehog, or a whole head to a petting zoo, evoking both the tactile and the emotional weight of such experiences.

Through evocative language and striking metaphors, the narrative explores the power of language itself – how we name things, how we tell our own stories, and how those stories can reclaim power from the narratives imposed upon us. From the raw anger at societal mistakes that impact bodies, to the quiet strength of planting oneself firmly in the earth, the poems summon a profound connection to nature and a sense of belonging in a world that often seeks to isolate.

This is a space where the personal becomes universal, where individual pain transforms into shared understanding, and where the act of storytelling itself is a powerful form of resistance and reclamation. It asks you to look, to feel, to understand, but ultimately, to respect the boundaries of another's experience, recognizing the inherent dignity in every body and every story.