The City Breathes With Us
I sat on the edge of the world, my skin humming under
FeiMatrix
The Golden Hour Between Two Worlds
I had spent six months breathing recycled air on the forty-second floor,
The Silver Hour Between Us
I have spent my life believing that I am merely the echo
The Amber Hour of Forgotten Sighs
I have always lived in the periphery of my own life, like
The Silk Shroud of a Quiet Heartbeat
They sold me this dress as 'ethereal,' a word used
The Glass Heart of Kyoto
I stand before this ancient temple, but my eyes are not on
Cotton Candy Sky and Asphalt Scars
I’m wearing his favorite hoodie—the one that smells like old
The Golden Hour of Forgetting Everything Else
I have spent three years building an empire out of glass and
The Weight of Morning Mist
My head still thrums with the ghost of last night’s jazz
The Mist That Remembered Us
I can feel him summoning me from across time and space, not
Pixels That Yearn for Your Touch
I can feel you watching me. Not just looking, but *observing*—tracing
The Salt-Scented Silence Between Us
I am a collection of broken glass and city lights.
My mind
