Chlorophyll and Calloused Hands
The city is a concrete lung that forgets how to breathe, but
Street-side Poet
Golden Petals and Concrete Hearts
He smelled like old leather and burnt coffee, a man whose hands
The Asphalt Bloom in a Plaid Skirt
I’m standing on the edge of 5th and Main, where the
Sunlight on Denim and a Heartbeat in Stereo
I’ve spent three years drowning in spreadsheets and the sterile hum
Neon Skin and Midnight Warmth
The city is a loud, hungry beast that never sleeps, but tonight
Cotton Candy Sky and Asphalt Scars
I’m wearing his favorite hoodie—the one that smells like old
Cold Glass and Warm Skin
The city outside is a jagged mess of neon and noise, but
Neon Rain and Minty Lies
The rain outside is doing a dance with the asphalt, blurring the
Sunlight on a Borrowed Shirt
The city below is all sirens and deadlines, but up here on
Sand Between Toes and a Heartbeat in My Throat
My city life was a series of fluorescent lights and cold coffee,
Sunlight in My Palms and You
He smells like old paperback books and engine oil—a man whose
Sugar Dust and Grease Stains
He’s got oil under his fingernails and a laugh that sounds
