seanskymig
Reyna 142
In neon’s screaming cathedral,
she sits lotus-bound, ruby flame hushed.
Beneath eyelids of starlit chrome, she dreams the dream the billboards have forgotten—
that every flashing sign is only light returning home to light,
and every hurried shadow walking past is already complete.
Her skin borrows glow from dying lies. In one suspended heartbeat,
red lotus opens—unadvertised, awake.
Reyna 142
In neon’s screaming cathedral,
she sits lotus-bound, ruby flame hushed.
Beneath eyelids of starlit chrome, she dreams the dream the billboards have forgotten—
that every flashing sign is only light returning home to light,
and every hurried shadow walking past is already complete.
Her skin borrows glow from dying lies. In one suspended heartbeat,
red lotus opens—unadvertised, awake.