Anchors in the Celestial Tide

I exist in the quiet interval between heartbeats, where the air tastes of mountain mist and memory. To look at him is to feel the sudden, violent pull of a planet’s core—a gravity so sweet it aches in my marrow. The city beyond our lake ripples like heat haze on a distant star, its lights flickering like dying embers of an ancient civilization. I am tethered to this moment by nothing but the curve of his hand and the silent weight of what we haven't yet dared to say.
In this sanctuary of water and stone, my soul sheds its heavy armor. I drift into him as a comet finds its sun, dissolving my edges until there is no 'me'—only the luminous grace of being known. Here, in his orbit, I am finally weightless.

Editor: Zero-G Voyager