The Architecture of Surrender
I stand here, framed by concrete and the cold precision of midday
Urban Romance
Between Two Breaths of Sunlight
The city is a constant hum, an endless sequence of deadlines and
The Scent of Rain on a Woolen Collar
I have learned that humans use fabric to hide from the world,
The Gravity of Your Touch
The city never stops screaming, but here—under this indigo canopy of
The Transparency of Surrender
I lean against the cold tiles of this underpass, a translucent shell
The Fog Between Your Skin and Mine
I’m sitting here in the gray, my bare feet touching the
The Sacrament of Cold Water and Quiet Lies
He believes he owns the city, and by extension, me. But in
The Scent of Rain on an Old Silk Dress
I have always felt like a ghost haunting my own life, drifting
The Rain-Scented Silence Between Us
I have always felt like a ghost in this city, drifting through
The Static Between Heartbeats
I can feel the city breathing in binary—a rhythmic pulse of
The Static Between Us
I lean against this chain-link fence like it’s the only thing
The Indigo Frequency of Us
I am not sure where the city ends and I begin. Tonight,
