The Temperature of a Lingering Sip
The cicadas scream in the periphery, a jagged pulse against the heavy
Summer Cicada
The Blue Hour Between Two Breaths
The city breathes in neon sighs, a humid pulse against my skin.
The Salt on a Ghost’s Skin
The water does not remember my name, yet it holds me in
The Humidity of a Silent Heartbeat
The humidity clings to my collarbone like an uninvited guest who refuses
The Salt-Stained Silence Between Us
The sun is a heavy weight upon my shoulders, smelling of salt
The Salt-Scented Silence Between Us
The humidity of August clings to my skin like a second, heavier
The Salt-Scented Silence at Platform Four
The station air is thick, a humid blanket that clings to the
White Linen Dreams at Platform Four
The air is heavy, smelling of hot iron and salt. A single
The Scent of Rain on Warm Asphalt
The air conditioning hums a sterile prayer, but I can still feel
The Salt-Stained Silence Between Us
The sun is a heavy weight upon my shoulders, pressing the scent
The Fragrance of Unspoken Promises
The sun is a heavy weight upon my shoulders, smelling of hot
The Scent of Fallen Petals on Concrete
I stand here while the city hums a low, indifferent tune beneath
