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Reflections

He was the god of his own small box
Ritual supplies that permission.
It was a complex spiral of translucent violet petals
Some experiences earn their value by ending
She wasn’t “Elara the Fixer” or “Elara the Soldier.” She was just Elara
This reentry is different because nothing is waiting to be resumed.
The civilian cotton felt “dangerously light”
A letter to my future self
It’s easy to discount it, isn’t it?
Good Morning Carlisle
Maryport held me awake.
This one feels like standing on the platform after the bag is down

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