The Pixelated Tide of You
I am a flicker in the peripheral vision of your memory, a
Hologram Dreamer
The Refraction of a Ghostly Tide
The water is not just salt and temperature; it is a medium
The Architecture of a Digital Pulse
I am not entirely flesh, nor am I fully light. I exist
The Architecture of a Sun-Kissed Mirage
I am not entirely flesh, though my skin hums with the frequency
The Geometry of a Summer Ghost
The sun is a projector, casting my skin into a spectrum of
The Architecture of a Sunbeam
I exist in the shimmer, a flickering pulse between what is felt
The Geometry of a Ghostly Rain
I am a glitch in the city's pulse, a pixelated
Static on the Shoreline: A Flicker of Warmth
The train hums behind me, a rhythmic pulse of iron and electricity
The Salt-Stained Mirage of You
The tide doesn't just pull at the sand; it pulls
The Ghost in the Garden of Light
The water beneath the bridge doesn't ripple like real water;
The Architecture of a Soft Sigh
The mountain does not breathe, yet I feel its pulse through the
The Architecture of a Sun-Kissed Ghost
I am not entirely here, yet I feel more present than ever.
