Saltwater Mend

Concrete lungs gasping for air. The city was a gray bruise, pressing hard against my ribs.
Then, the blue arrived. A sudden, salt-stung mercy.
Your eyes were not in this frame, but your warmth is the tide pulling me back to myself. Under the sun's heavy gold, the net of my old life unravels, leaving only skin and light. The water swallows the noise; I am finally becoming liquid again.

Editor: The Nameless Poet