(Sienna is a multi-talented artist/photographer/writer living in NYC, check out her work below! Interview & more coming soon...)
Until then: Check out some of her artwork and poetry below!
My Mother Once Told Me.
My mother once told me to get over something you need to get under someone.
Lying beneath someone else; becoming further away from who I am.
Becoming a wanderer lost within the moments, not from ecstasy but existential questioning.
How many times must I feel the weight of another human flush against mine?
Panting, sweaty limbs, rushed heartbeats and unanticipated words of passion.
Eyes drifting in waves of emotions; currents carrying sight.
The final climatic push of exuberant character is only to be left with a shell of exhaustion.
How many times must I feel this sensation to truly believe I am alive inside?
To pretend my heart doesn’t sink lower than a ship at the ocean’s depths.
Is it possible to become one with someone who only wants me in the moment?
Outside of that entwined dance of flesh we are mere strangers.
No matter what they say or how good they fuck me, I know this is temporary.
This sensation will fade; it’s a fleeting light slowly dwindling.
A curtain will close on this dance, may it be with a pull of string or a light of a cigarette.
The pants will go back on, the status quo will be once more.
The door will open and I will sit still in that bed covered in cum and sweat.
Wondering and further away from where my body lays still.
Hair matted to my face, muscles sore with a ruby tinge on porcelain skin.
Slowly coming back to the earth with lingering doubts.
Hoping to be further away than before, above everyone else.