photo journal

boda de luz

jillian rose

This kiss

and that kiss

on this piece

and that piece.

I am all


and you

cannot help but


a perfect pile of pieces.
— Tyler Knott Gregson, Chasers of the Light
lightroom spots (1 of 1)-11.jpg
Don’t you know you’re rootless,

branch free and not yet

sunken into the soil below?

You can move, walk,

and run forward, you can

plant yourself anywhere

you please, let your roots

wrap around any stones

you wish, strong against the

winds that will strip you

of leaf, of limb. Sing me

the song of your branches

blowing, teach me of

stillness when the storms

have died.
— Tyler Knott Gregson, Typewriter Series #1275
Give me a hand to hold,

and fingers that want to

wrap back around mine;

give me a heart that beats

and races, or slows, to

match the thumping drum

of mine. Arms that hold

as well as fold tightly

to be held. The push and

the pull, the give and the

fearless take. Love

is range, the grey

that lives in between the black

and the white.
— Tyler Knott Gregson, Typewriter Series #1271