Ambered Will
A bruised violet bloom pushes through damp earth, its petals forming a face that mirrors my own with unsettling precision. Underneath this surface symmetry, the eyes burn with a fierce defiance that no family record could ever account for. As light shifts, the distinction between the living skin and the garden soil begins to blur into a single, breathing texture. The gaze remains fixed, claiming an autonomy that exists entirely outside of any inherited blueprint.