Echoes in the Rain
The rain tasted of regret and forgotten promises. It clung to my
Urban Romance
Echoes in Stone
The dust tasted like regret and forgotten prayers.
It clung to the
Concrete Bloom
The rain tasted like regret. I’d been collecting it all evening,
City Glow, Silent Echoes
The rain had ceased, leaving a sheen on the skyscrapers that mirrored
Emerald Echoes
The mist, a velvet curtain spun from gray,
clung to the water,
Echoes in the Mist
The rain always seemed to follow me, a persistent grey curtain drawn
Golden Hour Echoes
The light fell like honey, thick and slow, through the slats of
The Weight of Sunlight
The dust motes danced in the shaft of light, a slow, golden
The Weight of Sunlight
He smelled of rain and ambition. A dangerous combination, I’d initially
Golden Hour Echoes
The afternoon held the scent of dust motes and something akin to
Golden Hour Echoes
The sunlight spilled across the floor, a honeyed warmth that felt like
Neon Bloom
The rain, a bruised velvet curtain,
danced upon the glass, a whispered
