COME WHAT MAY

  • It’s a tan trick, not a hat trick, nerve endings and synapses. I wanted tantric, your energy was vampire the live long day.  Let me smite thee, sweet scented petals and pine trees, hymn notes along a buttery breeze, my life is a green screen… Honoured Salem spells hanging by single stony threads. Ancestral rites,…

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Absence

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RUPTURE

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Relic

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EXODUS

LEGACY

A body of work tracing life, love, and loss with a mind in constant motion. Splintering between conflict and stillness in pursuit of clarity, balance, and an inevitable reconstruction of self.

Duality and illusion blur lines between inner experience and external reality, reshaping permanent damage to released, fleeting states. Attempting control over a psyche that resists containment and static perception.

What begins as an attempt to hold on to a lived experience through poetry and prose gradually becomes an examination of the human condition.