The Saltwater Slumber of a Concrete Heart
I had forgotten the language of tides, lost in a city where
Floating Muse
The Rust of Time and Your Warmth
I am a ghost in my own city, drifting through concrete veins
The Salt-Scented Silence of Us
I have forgotten how to be still until the city became a
The Indigo Hue of a Summer Sigh
I carry the city in my bag—a collection of forgotten tickets,
The Saffron Hour of Waiting
I am a ripple in the city’s concrete heartbeat, wearing sunlight
The Amber Hour of Us
I am drinking sunlight and cold foam, while you watch me from
The Indigo Hum of a Neon Heartbeat
I carry the weight of a thousand forgotten constellations in my hair,
The Scent of Rain on a Paper Heart
I am a ghost in the machinery of this city, drifting through
The Amber Resonance of a Rainy Tuesday
The city breathes in neon pulses, but here—within the sanctuary of
The Steam Between Our Silences
The city is a humming machine that never sleeps, but here—beneath
The Cobalt Hum of a City Heartbeat
I am a fragment of midnight caught in the neon glare of
The Amber Hour of Us
I am a creature composed of city lights and forgotten playlists, drifting
