What remains when the stories we told ourselves begin to fall away?

In The Constant, love, memory, and identity shift through time, revealing the quiet forces that shape who we become.

In this luminous and unflinching collection, the self is never still. It shifts through memory, intimacy, fear, and inheritance—shaped as much by what breaks as by what remains.

The Constant traces the accumulated fractures of a life lived across thresholds: a body that remembers childhood wounds, attachments that both bind and estrange, and the passage into midlife, where love becomes less illusion and more reckoning.

These poems dwell in the space between certainty and loss, asking what survives when our world tilts without warning. Wry, precise, and unexpectedly moving, this collection reminds us that change is inevitable, but endurance has its own gravity. What holds us is not permanence, but the fragile, stubborn constants we carry forward.