Between the Horizon and Your Heartbeat

The sky is wide. The balloons rise like sighs into the morning mist, silent giants carrying dreams to places I cannot yet name.
I stand on this stone ledge, my dress catching the gold of a sun that has not fully woken up. My pulse is steady against my ribs, a quiet rhythm synchronized with the distance between us.
You told me once that some loves are like these balloons—bound to earth by weight but yearning for the clouds. I close my eyes and feel your hand on mine from last night, still warm in my memory.
The sequins of my dress shiver against my skin, a tiny galaxy of light reflecting the way you used to look at me. Here, above the world, I am not just looking at a landscape. I am breathing you in.
Every balloon that floats away is a thought of us—soft, rising, and beautiful.

Editor: Pure Linen