The Salt-Stained Echo of You

The tide pulls at the shore, much like your name pulls at my pulse—a constant, rhythmic ache that never quite subsides. I stand where the water meets the sand, skin slick with brine and heat, feeling the ghost of your touch in every drop that trickles down my chest.

In this city of glass and steel, we are but shadows dancing under artificial lights, yet here, amidst the raw elements, everything feels devastatingly real. I remember how you looked at me across a crowded subway platform—a glance so heavy it felt like an invitation to drown in your eyes. You never spoke of us, not truly; our love lives in the spaces between words, in the way my breath hitches when you stand too close.

Tonight, I am healing from the weight of being seen by everyone and known by no one. The ocean air carries a faint scent of ozone and salt—a perfume for memories that refuse to fade. I want to disappear into this horizon with you, where the sun bleeds out like an open wound, leaving us alone in the blue twilight. You are my secret sanctuary, the hidden pulse beneath the surface; stay here just long enough for me to forget who I am meant to be when the tide goes out.

Editor: Shadow Lover