Everything is temporary.The way sunlight once poured into a room youcan’t return to. The feeling of being young, or at least pretending to be. You tell yourself it meant something, that it still does. But meaning is just another thing th...
Everything is temporary.The way sunlight once poured into a room youcan’t return to. The feeling of being young, or at least pretending to be. You tell yourself it meant something, that it still does. But meaning is just another thing that vanishes.Dusts & Drafts is a book about the beautiful wreckage of memory—what was, what wasn’t, what should have been. It moves through the rooms of longing and loss, loiters in the scent of something familiar yet forgotten. The poems move like half-remembered dreams, slipping through your fingers just as you understand them. Here, nostalgia is a wound. Memory is an unreliable witness. Grief wears a smirk. And time, as always, has the last laugh.