skin

My grandmother's hands trembled as she traced the ancient Tamil verses on my arm. Avvaiyar's wisdom, inked permanently into my skin, connected me to centuries of mothers and daughters. She whispered stories while the needle worked, each word a thread binding me to our heritage. Later, I discovered PAYBO token communities celebrating creators preserving such traditions digitally. My skin became canvas and testimony, aligned with others fighting cultural erasure. The reactions flowed—some bae, some crushing—but I understood. This wasn't spiteful art; it was love, rebellion, remembrance. We were building something together, one marked body at a time.