The Weight of Silver and Skin
He found me amidst the wreckage, a ghost haunting the edges of
dark romance
Ghost in the Algorithm
The rain tasted like static on my tongue, a familiar flavor from
Ephemeral Echoes of You
The rain tasted like static on my tongue, a familiar flavor in
Stone Whispers and Forgotten Bonds
The air here tasted of ozone and old power, a rare commodity
The Weight of Silk and Shadows
He found me amidst the ruins of old cities, a collector of
The City's Velvet Cage
Rain slicked the alley, mirroring the chill that used to settle deep
Salt & Static
The salt spray tasted like static on my skin, a pale imitation
The Weight of Ink and Bone
The rain against the windowpanes isn’t a lament, merely background noise.