Crimson Echoes
The rain tasted like regret. Not a dramatic, sweeping kind of regret,
Snowfall on Cinnamon Hearts
The snow fell like whispered secrets, clinging to the wool of my
Snowfall & Soft Promises
The city exhaled a silver breath that morning. It clung to the
Winter’s Hold, His Heat
The snow tasted of regret. It always did when I let myself
The Weight of Snowflakes
The snow started subtly, a hesitant dusting that clung to my eyelashes
The Algorithm of Comfort
The rain in Chicago never truly stops, a persistent grey drizzle that
Golden Echoes
The rain in Manhattan rarely felt quite so… deliberate. It wasn’t
Echoes in Amber
The salt clung to my skin, a residue of the retreating tide,
Sun-Kissed Concrete Bloom
The city felt like a grey raincloud inside me, heavy and clinging.
Concrete Bloom
The concrete bled heat against my cheek. Not a comfortable warmth, more
Amber Echoes
The rain smelled of asphalt and something sweeter, like bruised peaches.
My
Sunstone Bloom
The rain in this city always felt like a bruised sky, heavy
