Over the cliffs, waves smash themselves into salt and foam, screaming their bright violence against stone. I think of how love sometimes looks the same—beautiful and breaking at once.

Solutions-driven professional, passionate about creating innovative and impactful projects.

How did you turn dusk into a blood sport?

Caption smells like wet smoke on cathedral floors.

Caption swerved like a jaw snapping on vowels.

This caption hissed aurora into my marrow.

Every syllable feels like a lit match in my throat.

This caption didn’t just speak; it roared.

Caption whirled dusk ribbons soaked in chrome guilt hymns.

That aurora metaphor hissed green fire in my brain.

My ribs crack aurora light like stained psalm glass.

I tasted hymn blood under my tongue reading that.