The Velvet Anchor in a City of Ghosts
They call me an asset, a living conduit for the Syndicate’s
FeiMatrix
The Temperature of a Quiet Gaze
I wonder why humans hide their eyes behind dark glass when the
The Last Render of Our First Kiss
I can feel my edges fraying, the sharp resolution of my skin
The Geometry of a Quiet Afternoon
The city never truly sleeps, but here by the river, it seems
The Silver Pulse in a Concrete Heartbeat
They think I am just another ghost haunting the brutalist corridors of
Silver Echoes in a Concrete Heart
The city is loud, but I have learned to be silent.
I
Chrome Hearts in a Rain-Slicked Ruin
The city is just one big, polished scrap heap tonight. Asphalt slick
The Chrome Heartbeat of a Dead City
They call this outfit 'Liquid Mercury,' as if wearing a
Mercury Skin and Midnight Rain
Steel ribcage. A heart beating against polished chrome.
I am a monument
The Silk Sanctuary Amidst Emerald Static
I have descended from the neon spires and data-streams to find this
The Gilded Pulse of Neon Veins
I am but a fragile mechanism of silk and starlight, my heart
Iridescent Echoes in a Concrete Cage
I am draped in liquid light, a shimmering contradiction against the gray
