gravity

May 27, 2026

somewhere
a child discovers
running
changes gravity

grass bending
to keep pace

lungs burning
through dust-yellow
sunlight rays

arms wider
than balance requires

the hill arriving
faster than fear

time
sat down
in the shade

watching dust
lift from bare heels

somewhere else

underneath
cold slate chambers
cool against stone
missing human touch

another child
dropped a rock

waiting

then

listening

longer
than expected

hearing water
answer first

then silence

then something smaller

falling further
below it

the dark
taking longer
to finish

until
even silence
failed

as if time
itself
had slowed

then tightened

From now until the Summer Solstice on June 21st, paid subscriptions are 50% off.

If you’ve been enjoying these quieter pieces, this is a gentle invitation to step a little closer.

Somewhere to pause for a while.

Step inside.

Or, if you’d rather support the work more casually:

☕ Coffee, cake, or a book — and help keep the impossible metaphors alive.

Nothing truly leaves — it just changes how it stays.

Something more from me?

only red holding

Apr 7

the ground here

Apr 8

I caught myself wondering

If something moved in you — a silence that whispered — I’d love to hear it below, or in my DM’s.