“The verses most frequently re-read, marked with graphite, and shared through the quiet hours.”
“The sky weeps in grey syllables across the glass, each drop a calendar of what could never pass.…”
“We build our rooms around the empty spaces, where once were voices, laughter, familiar faces. A corner chair…”
“The paper curled in spirals of black ash, a quiet ending to a youthful dash. Each paragraph of…”
“The platform hums with subterranean cold, a carousel of stories left untold. Fluorescent lights flicker in tired hums,…”
“They mend the broken porcelain with powdered gold, not to disguise the fall, but to prove the break…”
“They do not vanish with the light, nor crumble as the seasons turn; they linger in the folds…”
“When the heart speaks, it does not shout; it murmurs like a rising tide upon a tranquil shore.”
“I wrote your name on folded sheets, then watched the ink bleed softly out across the paper grain.”