Last Roars Last Wings

His poetry is a wildfire disguised as a candle. It starts small a sigh a glance - then spreads into places you thought were safe. He writes like someone who has been told to sit quietly her whole life and has finally stood up. Every line is a dare. A pulse. A secret unbuttoning itself. These poems fight for breath in a world that asks women to shrink. They insist we take up space with desire with anger with joy that refuses to apologise. If a poem doesn't shake something loose inside you he rewrites it until it does.