Saffron Gates and Silk Whispers
Concrete veins pulse beneath my feet, but here—under the vermilion ribs
The Nameless Poet
Incense of Skin and Steam
Concrete pulse fades. The city is a ghost humming behind stone walls.
Paper Parasols for Concrete Hearts
Steam rises from the asphalt's breath. A city of glass
White Silk on a Concrete Pulse
Glass towers bleed neon into my skin. The city is a machine
Salt on the Lip of a Concrete Tide
Concrete ribs ache under the city's weight. I am a
Sipping the Sun’s Residue
The sun is a heavy coin pressed against my ribs, molten and
Saltwater Amnesia
Concrete veins. The city hummed a grey frequency that drowned my pulse.
Saltwater Amnesia
Concrete lungs. Exhaust fumes for breakfast.
Then, you. A sudden rupture in
Amber Echoes in White Linen
Ice cubes clink. A slow percussion of melting time.
The city hums
Amber Pulse in a Concrete Vein
Steel towers. Cold coffee. The hum of 10 million lonely hearts.
Then,
Saffron Salt on a Glass Heart
City concrete bled grey into my veins. I was a clock with
Hum of a Pale Summer
Electric wind.
A rhythmic thrumming that tastes of ozone and old wood
