The Silver Coast of a Second Self
I have spent three years in a glass tower in the city,
Summer Solitude
The Salted Breath of August
I had forgotten how the light here doesn't just fall;
The Architecture of a Sigh
I have forgotten the language of color. My world is now a
The Quiet Between Two Breaths
I had forgotten how to breathe without the weight of a city
Golden Hour, Quiet Heartbeat
I have spent three years living in the sharp, cold lines of
The Golden Hour of Quiet Longing
The city had been a cage of glass and cold steel, where
The Golden Hour of a Quiet Heart
I used to think that home was a place with four walls
The Golden Hour of Glass Hearts
I’ve spent ten years building a fortress out of spreadsheets and
The Golden Hour in a Glass
I have spent three years chasing deadlines through the grey corridors of
The Gravity of a Single Drop
I feel my consciousness drifting, an orbital body caught in the silent
The Warmth I Was Never Meant To Hold
I remember the weight of my own skin before you touched it—
The Rainfall Between Heartbeats
A silver needle pricks my skin. No, it is only a drop
