A cliff edge sang beneath the weight of waves, its song pitched in notes of erosion and defiance. Every crash rewrote the coastline, reminding me that permanence is only a rumor.

I solve problems you didn’t know you had, in ways you didn’t know you needed.

This view wrote a better love letter than poets.

There’s a storm humming between these syllables.

Reading this turned my ribs into stained glass windows.

Yes yes yes! Beauty like this asks for nothing but eyes.

A soft story told in leaves and light—that’s what this is.

This looks like patience grew roots and bloomed.

When hope grows quiet, it looks like this frame.

Reading this feels like rain sewing frost hymns in molten silk.