Echoes in Azure

The chlorine whispers a forgotten song,
a lullaby of sun and restless days.
My skin, a bloom of pale against the blue,
holds the ghost of city's hurried haze.

He arrived like driftwood on the tide,
a quiet shadow where the sunlight lied.
Not words exchanged, just glances steeped in grace,
reflecting pools within this tranquil space.

His fingers brushed against my damp hand then –
a spark ignited, a hesitant glen.
The water warmed, a solace soft and slow,
melting layers of where I used to go.

It isn’t grand, no fireworks or plea,
just the quiet knowing he sees *me*.
And in this azure sanctuary, serene and bright,
I find a warmth that banishes the night.