The Scent of Old Paper and Simmered Pears
I always found sanctuary in the silence of this bookstore, where time
FeiMatrix
The Warmth Between Two Concrete Silences
I am a ghost in their machine, an operative for the unseen
The Geometry of Your Breath
I can still feel the cold bite of the steel stairs beneath
The Chronometer of Your Breath
I sit upon this perforated iron throne, a relic of an age
The Silver Echo Under Iron Skies
I have always preferred the places where the city forgets to look.
The Art of Unbuttoning Your Soul
I spent seven years mastering the architecture of a power suit, learning
The Angle Where Two Silences Meet
I have always lived my life like a brutalist monument—sharp edges,
The Golden Hour Between Floors
I always wear this black dress when I want to feel like
The Silence Between Our Pages
He never says 'I love you,' yet he fills the
The Cost of Silk and Silence
I’ve spent three years climbing corporate ladders in a city that
The Architecture of Surrender
I stand here, framed by concrete and the cold precision of midday
Between Two Breaths of Sunlight
The city is a constant hum, an endless sequence of deadlines and
