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Home.
entry twenty two — scattered light, fractured grace: a quiet archive of light, loss, and what remains. The moon is a small, stubborn wound in the dark, haloed and patient. Branches reach like remembered names, skeletal and exact against the hush. The light slips through their fingers and leaves a trail of familiar ache. Not…
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Veil.
entry twenty one — scattered light, fractured grace: a quiet archive of light, loss, and what remains. Sometimes it feels like there is a different, almost literal space between seconds. A pause the world does not announce. There is intimacy in those spaces. Love. Beauty. A kind of quiet permission. There is me, and the…
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Exhumation
entry twenty — scattered light, fractured grace: a quiet archive of light, loss, and what remains. At first glance, it looks like the night sky. Stars caught in dark water, light splintered and scattered across a depth that won’t quite give itself away. But it isn’t the sky. It’s dead things in the night, drifting…
catacosmosis 