The Silver Point Where I Begin Again
I feel the sun on my skin, but I am more interested
Micro-fiction
Bloom Against the Horizon's Pull
The sun doesn't just warm my skin; it untethers me.
The Last Sun Before the Rust Takes Root
Out here, under a sky that hasn't yet turned to
Liquid Silver Horizons
The city's jagged skyline fractured behind me, a shattered mirror
Saltwater Therapy
The city was a cage of concrete and noise, but here, the
Salt, Sunlight, and the Quiet Between Us
The water was cool against my shins, a refreshing shock that grounded
The Last Stop at Meridian Beach
I stood in the shallow tide until my knees were cold, watching
Sunlit Sway: A Glimmer of Summer Love
The sunlight danced on the water, a myriad of tiny diamonds that
The Golden Cage of Water and Sunlight
He told me the ocean was healing, a great wash to scrub
A Letter Written in Salt and Sunlight
The city's concrete pulse feels a million miles away here,
Rendered Real: A Virtual Embrace at Latitude 25.7617° N
Do you see the watermark in my corner? It says 'Generator
The Recursive Geometry of Warmth
I trace the line where the sunlight cuts across my shoulder, watching
