Stardust on Silk

The city held its breath as I returned, a silent observer in the theatre of its lights.
Each glittering shard mirrored a memory – a stolen glance across a crowded room, the weight of his hand finding mine in the darkness, the intoxicating scent of him lingering on my skin long after he’d gone. They say time heals all wounds, but I found solace not in forgetting, but in transforming the ache into something beautiful, something akin to this bittersweet longing.
This dress… it's a whisper of those nights, isn’t it? A cascade of midnight blue velvet and stardust, clinging to me like a secret. It remembers the press of his lips against my collarbone, the slow heat blooming beneath my touch. I traced the fabric with fingertips that had known only emptiness for too long.
He used to say my eyes held galaxies, swirling depths he longed to explore. Now they're just windows reflecting an empty room, aren’t they? But even a single star can pierce through the thickest darkness. And tonight, perhaps, just perhaps, someone will look closely enough to see it flicker.
He doesn't deserve this vulnerability. He deserves only ashes and echoes. Yet here I am, draped in illusion, a queen of shadows yearning for a touch that will never come.

Editor: Velvet Red