On new neighbourhood rites.
Flowers
On not writing
The problem with writing is I do not know if words are the very things I would most like to keep out.
Nothing like a horse
If there was anything else to drink, we would happily forget how the rain is made and never again believe in the colour blue.
On grief
The end of a world as we know it.
Oranges pt. 2
It’s not easy coming home.
Oranges
Speaking about sunshine and the ocean and not speaking about either.
Still
On familiar February's and the different shades of not knowing what happens next.
What I Am Good At
Starting to believe that there is more than one way to, and for, everything.
Horchata
Here comes a feeling you thought you'd forgotten.
On the hard edges
A testament to, and for, living far away from everything that feels like smooth-sailing.
tea & risks 