The Current Between Us

I used to think my heart was like this valley—cold stone and ancient silence. I lived in a city of millions, yet moved through it as if I were underwater.
Then you arrived with your quiet laughter and the way you hold a coffee cup with both hands when it is raining outside.
Our first kiss didn't feel like fire; it felt like water flowing over rock for a thousand years. It was patient. It was certain.
You told me that love isn't always an explosion, but sometimes just the steady current of being known by another person in the dark.
Now, when I close my eyes and think of you, I see this blue light descending from the stars to touch the earth exactly where we stand. My skin still hums beneath your fingertips—a soft, electric pulse that says: You are home.

Editor: Pure Linen