The Lavender Pulse of a Liquid Commute
I stepped onto the 8:15 train, but the floor had decided
Urban Surrealism
Mercury Tears in a Concrete Cathedral
I have transformed my skin into an installation of liquid light, draped
The Glacial Thaw of a Neon Heartbeat
I stood beside the vending machine, but time had begun to liquefy,
The Neon Pulse of a Liquid Heartbeat
I stand in the center of an apartment that has forgotten how
The Vanilla Hour that Bent the City
I leaned against a brick wall that had begun to breathe, its
The Liquid Geometry of Your Touch
My skin has become a canvas where time drips like warm honey
The Sunset That Drank My Shadow
I stood on the roof while my high heels slowly turned into
The Basketball That Breathed My Name
I stood at the threshold of a classroom where gravity had decided
The Vanilla Eclipse of a Liquid Tuesday
I sit upon a bench that is slowly turning into warm brie,
The Bioluminescent Pulse of a Tuesday Night
My skin is no longer mere epidermis; it has become an installation,
The Soap Bubble That Swallowed Tuesday Afternoon
I sat on the edge of a concrete ledge that was slowly
The Liquid Architecture of Your Touch
I live in a city where the skyscrapers breathe and occasionally lean
