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The Stage
The voice behind the verse
A poem on the page is a whisper. On the stage, it breathes. Here are the nights the words left the book and found the room.
There is a difference between a poem read in silence and a poem said aloud.
On the page, the reader keeps the time. On the stage, I do — the breath, the pause, the word held one beat too long. That is where a poem stops being ink and becomes blood, where the room leans in and the silence between the lines begins to belong to everyone.
“Some poems you read. Others you have to say out loud — in a room full of strangers, until they are not strangers anymore.”
The book holds the words.
The room holds the fire.
In beadwork & light
Every poem here was first a whisper on a page. Read them in their own quiet — then imagine them said aloud.
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