The Ascending Pulse of a Garden Heartbeat
I am no longer anchored by the concrete sighs of Tokyo or
The Golden Hour Between Us
The city breathes below me in a rhythmic hum of neon and
The Silent Frequency of Belonging
I have always believed that we do not listen to music; rather,
Velvet Breath on Granite Skin
I live in a city that breathes through exhaust vents and speaks
The Sweetness Between Heartbeats
The city hums outside the window, a relentless tide of neon and
High Heels on Concrete Dreams
I’m standing on this roof not because I’m waiting for
Synchronizing Hearts in the Copper Glow
My pulse is a steady clock signal, but tonight it’s overclocking.
The Scent of Toasted Memories in an Orange Bag
I walked through the neon arteries of Shinjuku, my fingers tightening around
The Golden Glitch of Us
I stand at the intersection where time begins to fray, my mustard
The Neon Silence Between Us
The city screams in neon, but I have perfected the art of
The Ochre Pulse of a Quiet Heartbeat
My life in the city had become a series of rigid, slate-grey
The Scent of Sunflowers and Stolen Heartbeats
I have spent three centuries wearing the faces of a thousand different
