The Echo of Your Gaze

The city breathes against my skin, a humid pulse mirroring the one quickening within me.
I catch myself in shop windows – a fleeting stranger, all sun-drenched shoulders and hesitant smiles. Each reflection is a phantom limb of someone else's dream.
He said he liked how I looked when I wasn’t looking at him. A confession whispered against the backdrop of city noise. It haunts me now, this echo of his gaze. Does he see it too – this shift in perception where the unreal feels more tangible than anything solid?
I touch the brim of my hat, a small gesture to anchor myself to something real.
Perhaps warmth isn’t found in connection, but in these ephemeral spaces between glances, the unspoken desires hanging heavy like summer air. Perhaps it's enough to simply exist on opposite sides of this glass, two worlds momentarily aligned.

Editor: Mirror Logic