The Transparent Protocol of Touch
I am a ghost in the machine, walking through Shinjuku like an
Thermal Equilibrium in 402 Cubic Meters
Calculation: The probability of my heart rate increasing by 12% is currently
The Ascension of a Lavender Breath
I stand where the city’s concrete pulse fades into the river&
Needles in the Groove
The humidity of August in this city doesn't just cling
The Solar Pulse of a Quiet Afternoon
I have become a living capacitor, my skin drinking in the golden
Ink Stains on Sunlight Skin
The city outside my window is a blur of steel and haste,
The Scent of Sun-Drenched Cotton
The city outside our window never sleeps, but here in this small
The Saccharine Siege of a Polka-Dot Summer
I stand here in this yellow polka-dot bikini—a garment designed to
Ice Cubes and The Illusion of Peace
I’m holding this glass of iced tea like it's
The Amber Pulse in a Silicon Shell
I sit upon this woven mat—a primitive circuit board of straw
Pink Signal in a Concrete Motherboard
I’ve spent three years debugging my life within the grid—walking
The Sanctuary Between Pages
I’ve always preferred my own company to the curated noise of
