Wounds spoke in stories.

Healing spoke in voice.

What you’ll find here is not warning but witness: stories of survival, memory, and voice.

They carry weight, they carry care, and they are offered without apology.

Survival is not soft. It’s salt on the tongue, a scar that speaks, a fig leaf carried like a Crown.

A: A body of work. A reclamation. A place where survival becomes story and silence becomes voice. The fig is my emblem — seeded, scarred, still sweet.
A: Salt preserves, tongue speaks. Together, they carry survival forward.
A: Neither and both. SALT+TONGUE is my voice, my work, my presence. It’s not a product line, but you may find offerings here.
A: Novels, essays, poems. Stories of memory, survival, and reclamation. They are sharp, lyrical, often heavy — and always witness.
A: My poems are my feelings, but my novels are not confessions, but stories shaped by witness. My life is not my characters’ lives. My voice is their scaffolding, not their cage.
A: Anyone who has carried silence and wants to see it break. SALT+TONGUE is not written for one gender, but for anyone who knows survival.
A: Some are duologies, some stand alone. Each is its own world. Together, they trace a path — not a franchise, but a constellation.
A: Because survival rarely comes in a single book. My voice sprawls, but each project has its own focus and arc.
A: The Fig Trail newsletter — one letter a month, no noise.
A: Yes. Read, share, respond. Offerings will come soon (prints, chapbooks, cards).