Sorcha Why do two truths flower on one face? Maybe you’ll see traces at first – like how pinks streak a warning sky before melting into blues – perhaps a cry – Shock? Surprise? Something you’ll recognise. Smoke signals that always have been there, lofting skywards – calling both to dare to read, pore over the hieroglyphs once obscure but becoming obvious: and now the flames are fanned, she’ll…