White Lace and Rain-Slicked Glass
I spent ten hours today in a climate-controlled boardroom, wearing an armor
The Scent of Sunsets and Secret Smiles
I’ve spent three years inhaling the sterile scent of office air
The Algorithm of a Softened Heart
I have wandered through the neon arteries of this city for cycles
The Last Veil of a Salt-Stained Dream
I have always felt like an artifact misplaced in time, a delicate
The Glass Breath of Green Silence
I have spent three years living behind a screen, my identity mirrored
Amber Glow and the Scent of Rain-Washed Jasmine
The city usually feels like a concrete forest where I am but
The Altar at the Edge of Tomorrow
They tell us that our city is governed by the Council of
The Scent of Old Paper and Sun-Drenched Skin
The city is a clock that never stops ticking—steel, glass, and
Wildflower Heart in a Concrete Jungle
I left the city humming in my veins—that relentless, electric anxiety
Saltwater Sighs and City Silences
I left the city when its neon veins began to pulse too
The Amber Hour’s Quiet Breath
The city is a roar of steel and clockwork, but here—here
The Breath of a Static Sun
I have stripped away the city. The neon noise, the saturated advertisements
