Where Salt Air Meets Your Heartbeat
I still remember the weight of that city—the endless hum of
Echoes in the Glass Water
I have always felt like an artifact misplaced in a city of
The Alabaster Pulse on Grains of Silence
I lie here as a living altar, my skin humming with the
The Silk Firewall of a Forgotten Heart
I am an anomaly in their clean data streams, a ghost wandering
The Salt and My Skin
I’ve spent ten years scrubbing my hands clean in a city
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,
