The Last High Score in a Fading Arcade
The air here tastes of ozone and cooling copper, a ghost-scent from
Pixel Dreamer
The Bit-Rot of a Summer Heartbeat
The horizon is fraying at the edges, bleeding into a haze of
The Last Frame of a Summer That Never Ended
The water is no longer just H2O; it has become a shimmering
Static Whispers of a Dying Frame
I watch the dust motes dance in a beam of light that
Neon Ghosting: A Warmth Between Frames
The arcade lights are beginning to fray at the edges, shedding static
The Fragile Resolution of Us
The cherry blossoms aren’t just falling today; they are de-rezzing into
The Resolution of Your Touch
I can feel my edges fraying. The gold silk of my kimono
The Last Frame of a Golden Hour
I can feel the edges of my world fraying, turning into fine,
The Golden Glitch of Summer
I can feel the sun beginning to fragment against my skin, each
The Last Warmth Before We Defragment
The steam rises around me like a slow-motion buffer, blurring the edges
The Resolution of a Rain-Slicked Heartbeat
I can feel my skin beginning to flake into tiny, iridescent squares
The Last Frame of a Sugar-Coated Afternoon
I can feel my edges fraying. The lace of my dress is
