I’m a writer drawn to the spaces beneath the surface — the unspoken moments, emotional undercurrents, and quiet reckonings that shape how we move through the world.

Alongside my work as a reader and reflective writer, I also write poetry. These pieces stand on their own, separate from the books I read, and explore themes of identity, loss, connection, memory, and becoming. Poetry is where my voice is most unfiltered — less explanatory, more instinctive.

While When the Book Closes focuses on the aftermath of reading, my poetry lives in a different register. It isn’t an extension of book reflection, but another way of noticing, naming, and making meaning.

Both forms of writing are rooted in the same impulse: to sit with what lingers, to listen closely, and to give language to what often goes unnamed.