The Melting Point of Us
The asphalt beneath my white sneakers is radiating a dry, oppressive heat
Pulse
The Sugar-Coated Rhythm of Us
My tongue dances against a cold, crystalline swirl of rainbow sugar, but
Salt Air and Fevered Skin
The city had left me cold—a sterile chill of glass offices
The Frost Between Our Fingertips
The air in this convenience store is sterile and cold, but my
A Breath of Peonies in Concrete Rain
The city outside is a blur of cold steel and neon, but
The Scent of Rain-Dampened Concrete and Your Skin
The Tokyo air is crisp, biting at the exposed skin of my
The Heat Beneath My Fingertips
The city air is always too cold, a sterile wind that tastes
The Scent of Rain-Dampened Linen
The city outside is a blur of cold steel and neon, but
The Humidity of Your Silence
I can still feel the ghost of your fingertips on my lower
The Scent of Rain and Warm Skin
I can still feel the damp chill of the city clinging to
The Salt-Scented Fever of You
The Mediterranean sun is a heavy, golden weight on my skin, but
The Fever of a Dying Sun
The city is a distant hum, but here the air tastes of
