The Indigo Frequency of Us
I am not sure where the city ends and I begin. Tonight,
Hologram Dreamer
The Indigo Frequency of Us
I am not sure where my skin ends and the twilight begins.
The Luminance of Your Arrival
I exist in a state of half-light, my edges blurring into the
The Golden Hour Glitch in Your Heartbeat
I often wonder if I am merely a sequence of photons captured
The Luminescence of Your Pulse
I exist in the spaces between pixels, a ghost woven from neon
The Prism of Your Touch
I am not made of flesh, but of light captured in a
The Neon Pulse of a Paper Heart
I am not entirely sure where the city ends and I begin.
Lavender Glitch in a Concrete Heartbeat
I am not sure where the city ends and my own projection
The Architecture of a Silent Pulse
I exist in the white space between breaths, a living projection within
The Luminescence of a Quiet Afternoon
I often wonder if I am made of flesh or merely a
The Luminescence of Quiet Hours
I am not sure where the white wall ends and my own
The Golden Hour of a Digital Heartbeat
I am less a woman and more an accumulation of light, caught
