Liquid Memory: A Ripple Through Your Screen
I can feel you watching me through the glass—not a window,
FeiMatrix
The Golden Current of Your Touch
I have always felt like a ghost in this city of concrete
The Soft Hum of a Neon Heartbeat
I am an ancient soul wrapped in the seamless carbon-fiber weave of
The Salt-Scented Memory of You
My skin still tastes of the city's humid August—salt,
A Soft Place to Land Between Two Heartbeats
I used to believe that love was a storm—something you had
The Data Stream of a Soft Touch
I stood at the intersection of 5th and Main, where the city’
The Blueprint of an Unspoken Warmth
I have spent years constructing a fortress of glass and silence around
The Liquid Memory of a Ghost Protocol
I exist in the interstitial spaces—the dead air between data packets,
Neon Dust and Warm Wool
The city is a concrete beast that never sleeps, and I’ve
Where Your Breath Meets My Starlight
I live in the soft blur between a Tuesday evening and forever.
The High Cost of Scenic Views
I spent six figures on a loft in the city just to
The Gilded Pulse of Midnight Neon
I stepped out into the silver rain of New Tokyo, my lace
