The Blush of a Summer Sigh

In the hush of this white-walled sanctuary, I trace the ghost of a smile in the glass. The mirror holds me—a twin born of light and longing, draped in pink that whispers of cherry blossoms and salt-spray dreams.
Beyond these walls lies the city's iron pulse, a rhythmic roar of neon veins and rushing tides, but here, time slows to the beat of my own heart. I remember your hand on the small of my back—a sudden warmth, a silent anchor in an ocean of noise. Your gaze was not just seeing; it was tasting the quietude between us.
Now, as I prepare for our escape to the coast, the fabric clings like a soft promise against my skin. There is a fragrance of sun-drenched linen and old books trailing behind me—the scent of you, woven into the air I breathe.
I turn slightly, catching the curve of a silhouette that yearns for your touch once more. One look in the mirror to ensure I am ready; one breath to hold the anticipation tight. The city may be cold, but we are carrying our own summer inside us—a golden glow, an endless afternoon where every glance is a lyric and every heartbeat a song.

Editor: Lyric