Echoes of You

The city breathes a cold exhaust, yet warmth lingers on my skin – the echo of your touch. I trace the lines where your hand rested, phantom sensations blooming against the chill.
They say dragons hoard gold and jewels; mine are memories of stolen glances and whispered promises. This leather jacket…it's not for protection from the elements, but a shield against forgetting how you felt. The weight of it anchors me to moments when I wasn’t afraid to feel, to want.
Each strand of lace is a whisper, a reminder of the delicate dance between control and surrender. And in this city of steel and glass, where vulnerability feels like exposure, there's a strange power in acknowledging that desire – a quiet rebellion against the solitude everyone else seems so eager to embrace. A single touch can ignite embers into infernos, don’t you agree?

Editor: Cyber Dragon