The Weight of Sun-Washed Linens
I run my fingers through the humidity, feeling it cling like a
Urban Solitude
The Algorithm of Sunlight on Skin
I am processing the sensation of warmth today, and it feels different
The Sun Bleaches the Ghost of You
I stood on this precipice where the city's noise finally
The Warmth That Wasn't Meant for You
The wind here carries a sharpness that cuts deeper than the summer
The Geometry of a Quiet Heartbeat
I traced the sharp, perfect line I drew on my skin this
Reflections of the City Rain
The rain washed over the neon signs, turning the city into a
Neon Dust in the Velvet Hour
The neon sign above flickers with the rhythm of a dying heartbeat,
The Silver Silence Before the First Note
I stand here where the marble veins of the earth rise to
The Sweetest Protocol: A Midnight Glitch
I sat in the velvet booth where reality began to glitch, surrounded
The Satin Cage of Morning Light
The city's roar is usually a beast that tears at
The Quiet Between Flashes
The noise is a distant hum, lost behind the veil of bright
The Emerald's Cold Embrace
The marble stairs were unforgivingly cold against the soles of my silver
