The Weight of a Sun-Bleached Smile
The bridge stands like a skeleton against the horizon—rigid, permanent, and
The Frequency of Flesh and Foam
The tide washes over my ankles, a rhythmic disruption in the sensory
The Weight of a Red Secret
Concrete breathes in steam.
A grey pulse beneath the skyline’s ribs.
A Breath Between Tides
The salt clings to my skin like a second layer of thought,
The Architecture of a Fleeting Spark
The scent of Bergamot and crushed jasmine clings to my skin, a
The Scent of Salt on Sun-Dried Skin
The city always smelled like exhaust and cold metal. I used to
The Anatomy of a Shared Exhale
The salt air is a lie; it doesn’t wash away the
The Weight of Sunbeams
They say the ocean heals everything, but I suspect it just gives
The Rhythmic Drift of Cerulean Dreams
The glass is a thin membrane between my pulse and their silence.
Frequency of a Sun-Drenched Dream
The sun is a gold coin tossed into the sky's
The Blueprint of Falling Light
The city is a grid of rigid perimeters, a blueprint where every
Foundations in Shifting Sands
The city is a grid of rigid right angles, and I have
