There are absences that never really leave.
Still is a collection of poems about grief — not as something to move past, but as something we learn to carry. In three movements — Rupture, Memory, Remains — it traces the arc of loss: the world gone hollow, the slow stitching of memory into the body, and what quietly survives.
These are spare, tender poems for anyone who has lost someone and found that love didn't end — it only changed shape.
If these pages feel familiar, they were always meant to find you.