The Saffron Hour on Ivory Sands
I let the salt-heavy breeze brush against my collarbones, a cool caress
The Golden Hour of Two Solitary Suns
I stand at the edge of a world that feels as though
The Shore Where All Timelines Collapse into You
I stand where the ocean attempts to erase my footsteps, yet I
The Salt-Sown Promise of a Dying Sun
I walk upon sands that have already forgotten the names of all
The Vanilla Singularity in a Gingham Grid
I hold this cone not as a treat, but as an anchor
Whispers from the Silver Grass Sea
I found a cassette tape in the attic of my new apartment—
The Salt of Your Skin and the Polka Dots of My Soul
I wonder why humans carry red bags to a blue sea. Is
The Pink Hour of Our Quiet Forever
They say the city never sleeps, but in this moment—between a
The Scent of Stardust and Cotton
I have spent three years in Tokyo learning how to be invisible—
The Clockwork Pulse of an Amber Afternoon
I stand within this sanctuary of paper and dust, where the sunlight
Between Two Heartbeats, a Cherry Blossom Breath
The city’s roar is merely a distant hum here, softened by
The Sanctuary Within My Own Skin
I used to believe that being alone was a deficit, a gap
