The Geometry of a Heartbeat
I have stripped away the gold of these fields and the turquoise
Monochrome Ghost
The Golden Hour’s Last Breath
The city was a grid of cold grey and flickering neon, where
The Silver Hour of Us
The world is too loud in color, so I have stripped it
The Architecture of a Sigh
I have forgotten the language of color. My world is now a
The Salt of a Thousand Silences
I have forgotten the name of every shade between dawn and dusk.
The Geometry of a Golden Hour
I have learned to strip the world of its noise until only
The Geometry of a Sunlit Sigh
I strip away the noise. The graffiti wall behind me is merely
The Afterglow of Silence
Color is a distraction. The neon lights of the city, the frantic
The Weight of Golden Light
The city is a cacophony of grey noise, a relentless friction of
The Anatomy of Absence
I strip away the color until only the silhouette remains. Here, in
The High-Contrast Cure
I stripped the world of its noise, reducing the chaos to a
The Architecture of Silence
I strip away the noise until only the outline remains. The world
