tap tap

..

The rain tapped once, then again,
like learning your name —
again.
We smiled at the glass as it played,
heard worry unmade.
The roof said: you hear all the same.

The walls did not answer.
They listened.
Every drop captured,
and translated into shelter.

The dark did not press.
It settled in close.
As if it had always known
the shape of us.

And beneath the sound of weather —
before roofs, before names —
something remained.

The rain tapped once again,
remembering your name

ㅤ

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For those who choose to go a little deeper
paid subscribers get
access to a Guided Noticing,
and occasional paid-only pieces,

Everything I publish publicly stays public.

This is about making space for slower work, and for people who want to stay close to how it’s made.

If you’ve been hovering, this is a good moment to step in.

I’m always open to thoughtful writing collaborations.

Other prose and poems from me.

The Noise That Forgot Silence - Ep 4

Still, Nothing

Warmth, still

What Fear Whispered Before

Another night, later.

still close enough

Between the two of us

Idle

One Step Is Enough

The Sun Said Hop

She Arrives in the Pause

Not All Love Is Meant To Be Found.

🌈 When Rainbows Speak Back

Nothing truly leaves — it just changes how it stays.

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

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All artwork courtesy of NDjin Gallery