Gold in the Fractures
“They mend the broken porcelain with powdered gold, not to disguise the fall, but to prove the break was worthy of reverence.”
The Complete Archive
Explore Poetry
“Every stanza is a bridge between what was felt and what was endured.”
Three AM and the Amber Lamp
“At this hour, the street belongs only to the stray cat and the ghosts of decisions made too hastily in daylight.”
Rain Against the Attic Glass
“The roof knows the exact measure of November, dripping softly through the eaves as if counting the years since your voice was here.”
The Letters We Never Sent
“I keep every sentence I could not give you folded inside the cedar drawer, waiting for a season that will not arrive.”
Saltwater Elegy
“The tide returns what we threw away, a driftwood cross, a shell of pearly grey. The ocean has no mercy in its roar, it simply…”
The Anatomy of an Unanswered Call
“Four rings that tumble down a hollow wire, each tone a tiny flicker of desire. Then clicks the automated voice polite, that leaves me standing…”
Echoes on the Metro Line
“The platform hums with subterranean cold, a carousel of stories left untold. Fluorescent lights flicker in tired hums, as midnight on the empty turnstile comes.…”
Letters We Burned Before Midnight
“The paper curled in spirals of black ash, a quiet ending to a youthful dash. Each paragraph of promise turned to cinder, a fire neither…”
The Architecture of Quiet Grief
“We build our rooms around the empty spaces, where once were voices, laughter, familiar faces. A corner chair where afternoon light would gleam, now holds…”
When Rain Remembers You
“The sky weeps in grey syllables across the glass, each drop a calendar of what could never pass. I watch the streetlamps blur in violet…”
After the Rain
“The earth exhales its oldest prayer, a scent of pine and moistened loam as raindrops surrender to the sun.”
Letters to Yesterday
“I wrote your name on folded sheets, then watched the ink bleed softly out across the paper grain.”