Rain on Crimson
The rain arrived like a slow, insistent regret. It smeared the city
Modern Love
Sunstone Bloom
The asphalt remembers rain.
I trace the veins of a sunflower, its
Golden Hour Bloom
The light settled.
It warmed my skin, a quiet pressure against the
Echoes in Stone
The air tasted of dust and something older.
He hadn’t spoken
Echoes of Amber Light
The dust still smelled faintly of rain and forgotten things, a scent
The Echo in the Mist
The rain hadn’t entirely ceased, clinging to the cobblestones like a
Echoes in Stone
The dust tasted like regret and forgotten prayers.
It clung to the
Concrete Bloom
The rain tasted like regret. I’d been collecting it all evening,
City Glow, Silent Echoes
The rain had ceased, leaving a sheen on the skyscrapers that mirrored
Echoes in the Mist
The rain always seemed to follow me, a persistent grey curtain drawn
Golden Hour Echoes
The light fell like honey, thick and slow, through the slats of
The Weight of Sunlight
The dust motes danced in the shaft of light, a slow, golden
