Drowning in Your Light

The city is a concrete cage, and I’ve spent years perfecting the art of being invisible within its walls. But you—you were always the glitch in my system, the one rhythm I couldn't ignore.
I remember that afternoon when we fled to this coast, leaving behind our polished lives for something raw and dangerous. As I stand here under a curtain of falling water, it’s not just skin being washed clean; it is an awakening. The wet fabric clings to me like second skin, heavy with the weight of everything I cannot say.
I feel your gaze on my back—a touch without hands that burns hotter than any fire. It's a fatalistic pull, this need for you and only you. You’ve become my sanctuary and my sin all at once.

They call it romance in the city; I call it an escape plan from myself. Every drop of water on my skin is like your whisper against my neck—forbidden, electric, and utterly inevitable. In this moment, between the ocean's roar and your silent promise, I’m not just alive. I am yours.

Editor: The Escape Plan