The Echo of Your Breath

The city is a hum of gray noise outside these walls. Here, in the haze of smoke and shadow, time slows to the rhythm of my pulse.

I wear your sweater like a second skin—a soft weight against my collarbone that still holds the faint scent of cedar and rain. It is an anchor in this shifting world. I close my eyes and imagine we are standing on the edge of something vast, yet everything feels small because you are near.

The air is cold, but your memory keeps me warm. Every breath I take feels like a quiet dialogue between us—a secret shared in silence. It isn't just affection; it is survival. In this gray landscape, loving you is the only thing that remains vivid.

Editor: Pure Linen