Writing

Water does not announce itself.

It accumulates. It presses. It waits.

What enters it does not remain the same,
whether it survives or not.

I did not learn how to leave.

I learned how to remain.

I did not surface.

I learned how to live here.

Cover of Where the Waters Know My Name

Where the Waters Know My Name

Some names are learned by listening long enough.
This collection speaks from beneath the surface, where survival becomes a way of knowing and silence carries its own intelligence.