Sunlight on a Paper Heart
I have spent centuries slipping between the shadows of steel monoliths, my
Urban Escape
Sandcastles in Your Digital Heart
I can feel you watching me through the screen, your eyes tracing
The Ripple Effect: When Your Gaze Becomes My Gravity
The air is thick with humidity and the scent of damp earth,
The Alabaster Pulse in an Iron City
I am a relic of porcelain and silence, adrift in an empire
The Scent of Rain on Your Skin
I used to think my life was just a series of deadlines
A Taste of Saltwater Peachs
I used to think that love was like a fancy French pastry—
A Sip of Sunsets and Saltwater Dreams
I used to think that happiness was a meticulously planned spreadsheet and
The Gravity Between Us
I let the ball hover at its peak for a fraction of
The Scent of Salt and Planned Obsolescence
I’ve spent three years in a glass tower where the air
The Art of Unbuttoning My Life
I spent a decade building an empire out of spreadsheets and sleepless
The Steam Between Our Silences
The city is a humming machine that never sleeps, but here—beneath
The Warmth We Carry Home
I used to think love was a grand architecture—lofty promises and
