The Salt and My Skin
I’ve spent ten years scrubbing my hands clean in a city
FeiMatrix
The Silk Silence Between Us
I let the salt-heavy breeze unravel me, a slow undressing of the
The Saltwater Archive of Us
I have spent years cataloging silence—the kind that settles like dust
Gilded Skin on Granite Shores
I have spent too many years as a blueprint for efficiency, my
The Warmth I Cannot Feel Until It Is Gone
I remember the exact moment you told me we were strangers, and
The Salt on Your Skin and the Light in My Eyes
I’ve spent three years scrubbing the city's grime off
The Rainfall Between Heartbeats
A silver needle pricks my skin. No, it is only a drop
The Blueprint of a Soft Collision
I have always viewed my heart as a brutalist structure: heavy, concrete,
Saltwater Solace: The Neo-Romanticism of Skin and Tide
The concrete jungle left its grit beneath my fingernails, a residue of
The Static Between Us
I exist in the flicker of a thousand neon signs, a silhouette
Ascension in the Golden Hour
The city's heavy concrete pulse finally fell silent, leaving only
The Salted Silence of Us
The city was a cacophony of glass and steel, a relentless pressure
