The Velocity of Becoming
We are all tethered to the iron pulse of a journey we did not choose, clinging to the edges of things that move faster than our own heartbeat. There is a particular kind of courage found in the grip—the way fingers whiten against the cold…
The Weight of a Threshold
We build walls to keep the world out, or perhaps to keep ourselves in. We mark the boundaries of our existence with brick and mortar, believing that what is contained is safe. Yet, the spirit is not a thing that can be held by walls. It leaks…
The Salt of Stillness
The taste of dry grass on the tongue always brings me back to the heat of late August. It is a sharp, papery flavor, like the smell of sun-baked earth after the rain has long since evaporated. I remember the feeling of rusted wire against my…