Midnight Silk on Golden Skin

The city skyline was a distant hum, swallowed by the velvet throat of twilight. Here, on this private pier where the water tasted like salt and secrets, I let the last golden kiss of the sun slide down my spine, slick as honey against satin skin.

The pearls around my neck were cool jewels resting upon burning warmth, a tactile reminder that even in solitude, there is luxury to be had. He wasn't here yet—the architect who builds castles out of glass and silence—but his absence was heavy enough to feel like a touch tracing the line of my collarbone.

I closed my eyes as the breeze ruffled hair spun from gold thread, thinking how healing it felt to let the light consume me. In this world of sharp edges and frantic noise, I wanted only to dissolve into something soft; a woman waiting in the dark for her own sunrise.

Editor: Velvet Red