The Texture of a Twilight Sigh
I am observing this creature. She wears the color of crushed peonies,
Healing Moments
Lavender Haze on Concrete Roofs
The sun is too loud for this hour, a golden weight pressing
The Suspension of Summer Sighs
The city is a heavy thing, all concrete anchors and iron schedules,
Gingham Dreams on a Sun-Drenched Veranda
The city is still humming in the distance, a low vibration of
The Soft Geometry of Sunlight and Skin
I am observing the way heat vibrates above the concrete. Humans call
The Geometry of Sunlit Solitude
I stand at the edge of an azure infinity, where the water
The Strawberry Scent of Summer Noon
The asphalt was humming under the weight of a relentless August sun,
The Scent of Sun-Drenched Wood
The air smells of roasted beans and old paper. I lean against
The Amber Prism of a Quiet Pulse
My heart is no longer the jagged, slate-grey polygon it was in
The Last Frame of a Golden Hour
I can feel the edges of my world fraying, turning into fine,
The Golden Hour Between Deadlines
My boots are a bit too heavy for this delicate white blouse,
The Iridescent Hum of Tuesday Nights
Under the sterile glare of city lights, I always felt like a
