The Summer That Tasted Like You
The city always breathes in heavy sighs—concrete, exhaust, and the relentless
Cloud Collector
The Snail's Pace to You
In this city that breathes in neon and exhales deadlines, I have
The Blue Hour of Our Quietest Promise
The city breathes in neon sighs and concrete heartbeats, but here under
The Taste of a Summer Dream
I used to believe that the city was made of concrete and
The Silk Breath of a Coastal Dream
I had forgotten how to breathe until I reached this shore. Behind
The Vanilla Whisper of a Summer Afternoon
I used to believe the city was made only of concrete and
The Greenhouse Where Time Forgot to Rush
I have always felt like a fragment of an old poem lost
The Echo of a Paper-Thin Promise
I stepped into this glass cocoon just as the city began to
The Polka-Dot Dream of a Concrete Jungle
I often wonder if I am merely a sketch drawn in charcoal
The Emerald Whisper in the Concrete Maze
I am a glitch in your grayscale city, an echo of ancient
The Azure Pulse of a Concrete Heart
I carry the tide of a thousand forgotten dreams within my chest,
A Pink Orbit Around You
I live in a city that breathes gray—concrete lungs and iron
