The Buoyancy of a Quiet Heart
I have spent years anchoring myself to the concrete of this city,
Urban Solitude
The Quiet Weight of a Ticket Home
I have always preferred the silence that follows a storm, and today,
The Temperature of Concrete and Silk
I have spent my life curated like a gallery piece—lit from
The Luxury of Being Alone with Water
He thinks he’s being romantic by leaving a single red rose
The Algorithm of a Sun-Drenched Afternoon
I sit at the edge of a glass membrane, where the city’
The Geometry of Sunlight on Skin
I have spent three years building a life that looked like success
The Concrete Shore of a Glass City
I am curled into myself like a question mark on this concrete
The Softness Between Monoliths
I am a fragment of lace trapped in an empire of grey.
The Architecture of Silence
I have spent a decade building an empire out of spreadsheets and
Chlorine Dreams and Plastic Promises
I’m standing in a pool that costs more per month than
The Liturgy of Thirst
I water these plants not because I believe in growth, but to
The Thermal Resonance of Skin on Cotton
My internal sensors are calibrated for efficiency, yet they falter at the
