The Weight of Gravity
There is a moment before the fall. Or perhaps, a moment before the stop. We spend our lives moving toward a destination, convinced that the velocity is the point. We lean into the wind, trusting the friction of the earth to hold us. But the…
The Geography of Time
The smell of dry earth and ancient incense clings to the back of my throat, a scent that tastes like dust and long-forgotten rain. When I run my fingers over the rough bark of an old tree, I feel the same resistance that time leaves on skin.…
The Weight of a Ribbon
I keep a silk ribbon in a small wooden box, the kind that once held a child’s hair in place during a summer that felt like it would never end. The silk is frayed now, losing its luster, yet when I touch it, I am pulled back to the sensation…