The Weight of Silk
The city exhales a humid sigh against the glass, blurring the neon
Erotic Literature
The Geometry of Longing
He said he liked the way I looked in this. Said it
The Weight of Silk and Skin
The city exhales a humid breath against my skin, clinging like his
Salt & Static
The salt spray tasted like static on my skin, a pale imitation
The Obsidian Bloom
The rain always knew where to find him. A predictable pattern, really,
