The Weight of Silk & Silence
They say vulnerability is a weakness. I’ve always found that to
sensual photography
Golden Hour Static
The city breathes out steam after the rain, doesn't it?
Gilded Cage
The glass reflects the city, cold and distant. I prefer it that
Golden Hour Reverie
The wheat field wasn't planned, of course. Neither was running
Golden Hour Reverie
The sun bleeds gold, a slow descent upon the fields,
and I
Sunlight & Skin, A Ghost of Your Touch
The dust motes dance like the memories – fleeting, beautiful, and always just
The Weight of Silk, The Echo of You
He found me in the city’s grit, a ghost haunting late-night
Golden Hour Reveries
The light, thick as honey, pools across the floorboards and warms my
Salt & Secrets
The salt spray tasted like memory tonight. Like the first time he’
Salt & Serum
The sand was cold, a nice shock against my skin. Not unpleasant.
Smoke & Silk
The air clings heavy, a damp velvet against my skin. It tastes
Ephemeral Tide
The sand is cold. Insistently, annoyingly so. It clings to everything – my
