Static in the Valley of Green Noise
The concrete swallowed my name three floors down.
But up here, the
The Nameless Poet
Gravity of the Golden Hour
The stone is wet with the city's tears, cold seeping
Where The Iron Frost Melts
The subway was too hot. Sweat stung my eyes, the air a
Sunlit Static
Dust motes dance.
A memory of heat on skin, asphalt melting under
Echoes in Stone
Dust motes.
Sun-warmed stone, a forgotten god’s pedestal. He found me
Echoes in Asphalt
Dust motes dance.
A city's breath, cool on skin.
The
Salt Air & Lavender Hues
The sea remembers every touch.
A ghost of a scent, lavender and
Ephemeral City Lights
Glass. A shield against the dissolving.
Each drop a memory, tracing paths
Velvet Static
Rain-slicked streets, a blur of neon. Your gaze,
a slow burn against
Crimson Static
Dust motes dance.
A fractured light, a borrowed room. The scent of
Sunlit Skin, Silent Echoes
Dust motes dance.
A quiet room. His absence, a soft ache.
The
Lace & Echoes
The curtain's drape, a quiet sigh.
His scent lingers – coffee