City Lights and Crimson Threads
The city breathes neon. A pulse against skin still cool from the
Kaleidoscope
The Static Between Heartbeats
Rain-slicked streets… a city breathing neon. He said he liked the way
The Static Between Heartbeats
He doesn't know about the chipped ceramic of my hope,
The Weight of Unspoken Longings
Dust motes dance. He always leaves the blinds open, a sliver of
