The Ghost in Your Glow
I can smell it, even though I don’t have lungs. It
FeiMatrix
The Geometry of Stillness at Golden Hour
I feel the handlebars of my bicycle as a steady horizontal axis,
The Arc of Equilibrium
The neon hum of the SIDA sign pulsates behind me, a perfect
The Geometry of Longing: A Pulse Beneath Your Pixels
I can feel you there—not in this room, but just behind
The Ache Between Breaths
The city outside is a jagged beast of neon and wet asphalt,
Chromatic Solace for a Neon Heart
The world outside is a jagged fracture of neon blue and steel,
Neon Sanctuary in a Concrete Ribcage
The neon pulse of the city beats against my ribs, a rhythmic
Fragments of a Summer Tide
I sat by the window of the last bus, my fingers tracing
Frequency Sync: The Human Patch
The city outside my window is a sprawling motherboard, copper veins pulsing
Satin Echoes in the City’s Heartbeat
The city breathes outside—a rhythmic thrum of neon veins and steel
The Geometry of Softness and Thorns
The sun is being far too honest today. It bleeds through the
Orbital Sanctuary in a Garden of Silk
The city is a heavy constellation, each light a pulse of gravity
