Residual Heat
The saline particulate settled on the exposed dermal layers, a subtle gradient
Reflections in Saltwater Bloom
The water remembers everything, you know. It clings to the edges of
Refraction in the Rust
The pier’s angle, a hesitant extrusion into the grey, held its
Salt & Silk
The grey whispers of the sea tasted of something familiar, like old
Velvet Moss & Brine
The moss clings to everything here, a damp, persistent embrace. It’s
The Dust of Second Chances
The rain always smelled like memory here. A fine, silver dust clinging
Neon Rain & Silver Light
The rain, of course, was a lie. Not really. It slicked the
Sugar Rush Syndrome
The chrome of the bike hummed, a low thrum that synced with
The Dust & The Drive
The rain always smelled like possibility in this city. Not the saccharine,
Driftwood & Stardust
The rain in Neo-Kyoto always felt like a secret, didn’t it?
Dust & Echoes
The sand tasted of memory. Not a sharp, painful recollection, but the
Currents & Silk
The salt always smells like remembered rain.
He said he’d find
