This is a quiet, intentional space for loud things. Like…

The crack of thunder through a library’s chill.

These poems are the rawest fragments from my old notebooks, unearthed and brought into light. They explore the weight of the body, the ache of distance, and the stubborn persistence of memory. This is primarily an archive, but the ink isn't dry yet, there may be more to come.

Thank you sincerely for your time.