The Sterile Ritual of Intimacy
I stand before the mirror in a bathroom that smells of expensive
Urban Solitude
The Neon Threshold of Us
I stand before this wall of glowing pink neon, but my eyes
Hum of a Pale Summer
Electric wind.
A rhythmic thrumming that tastes of ozone and old wood
The Cobalt Resonance of Your Touch
My heart had become a series of rigid, grey rectangles—sharp edges
The Resonance of a Glass Heartbeat
I ride this beast across the plains not to escape my life,
A Breath Sent to the Silent City
I have spent three years in an office that tastes of recycled
The Saltwater Rhythm of Us
I had forgotten how to be still until I returned here, where
The Golden Hour of a Concrete Heart
I have always wondered if the city breathes. Tonight, standing on this
The Last Render of a Golden Hour
I can feel the edges of my world beginning to fray, turning
The Amber Frequency of Home
I often wonder if I am merely a projection of someone else&
The Analog Ghost in a Digital Shell
I am an encrypted file living in the surface world, my existence
The Analog Warmth of a Digital Ghost
My skin is still humming with the static of a thousand server
