Sun-Kissed Reveries

The salt spray kisses my skin, a phantom touch mirroring the one I’ve been avoiding.
He says he likes watching me from afar, like observing a delicate bloom. A strange confession, yet…it feels known to both of us.
There's a certain comfort in existing on the periphery of someone’s world, isn’t there? A safety that intimacy dissolves.
But sometimes, when the sun dips low and paints everything gold—like now—the warmth feels too insistent to ignore, doesn’t it?
And I wonder if he can hear the unspoken echoes of my own hesitant heart.

Editor: Floating Muse