The Salt of Your Skin and the Polka Dots of My Soul
I wonder why humans carry red bags to a blue sea. Is
Modern Romance
The Pink Hour of Our Quiet Forever
They say the city never sleeps, but in this moment—between a
The Sanctuary Within My Own Skin
I used to believe that being alone was a deficit, a gap
The Salt in Your Breath
The city was too loud for my heart to hear itself. So
The Scent of Wisteria by the Two Lights
I remember how my breath used to feel like a trapped bird
BUFFERING: The Taste of Salt and Sunsets
The city was a loop—a corrupted script of steel and fluorescent
The Resonance of Two Heartbeats at High Tide
I stand here, palms pressed together in a silent prayer that is
The Pale Yellow Geometry of Longing
I am a series of translucent spheres drifting through an indigo void,
Salt Water & Stale Promises
I’m sitting on this rock wearing a dress that costs more
Whispers of Palm Leaves and Sun-Kissed Secrets
I let the warm breeze play with my hair, feeling every fiber
The Scent of Apricot Sundays
I used to think love was a storm—all thunder and sudden
The Probability of an Eternal Summer
I have calculated my existence in spreadsheets and missed deadlines. For three
