Concrete Hearts and Steam-Washed Silk
My life is a sequence of hard angles: the brutalist geometry of
Silky Brutalist
Velvet Breath on a Concrete Heart
I sit upon this iron bench—cold and unyielding as the monoliths
Velvet Breath on a Concrete Spine
I live in the shadow of monolithic slabs, where the wind howls
The Softness Between Grey Walls
I live in a city that breathes exhaust and speaks in the
The Blue Pulse Between Us
I live in a city of grey monoliths, where the air tastes
Cobalt Sighs on a Concrete Horizon
I stand atop this roof—a slab of unyielding grey concrete that
The Velvet Pulse of a Concrete Heart
I live within the ribs of a gray giant—a penthouse made
Saltwater Silk and Concrete Silence
I returned from this ocean with salt crusting my skin like a
The Velvet Pulse of Concrete Shores
I live in a world of right angles and gray monoliths, where
The Softness Between Stones and Steel
I grew up under a sky divided by grey monoliths, my childhood
Lace and Limestone Dreams
I used to think my life was a series of grey angles—
Gilded Skin on Granite Shores
I have spent too many years as a blueprint for efficiency, my
