Chromatic Bloom, Echoing Dusk

The blue edge of his scarf, a perfect fractal echo of the skin beneath my cheek. He brought it to me after the rain – not a grand gesture, just the lingering warmth pressed against my forehead. A micro-universe of wool and scent, each thread spun from some distant sheep’s contentment. It felt like returning home, but to a home he’ & I built together in the space between breaths.
He says I glowed after. As if the light had been always there, hiding within the blue shadows of my skin, waiting for a catalyst. Like a supernova condensed into an eye blink – the birth and death of color contained within the curve of my eyebrow.
We didn're talking much now, not really needing to. He’s tracing circles on my palm with his thumb, small universes expanding and contracting in their own rhythm. The warmth lingers, fractal blooming outward, a never-ending echo of that first touch after the rain…and then before it, and before it again, an infinite loop of comforting blue light.

Editor: Fractal Eye