The Silence Between Two Heartbeats

I’ve always known how to build walls—elegant, impenetrable architectures of glass and silence that kept the city at arm's length. But here on this shore, draped in a shirt that carries your scent like an old memory I refuse to let go, those defenses are nothing more than sandcastles before a tide.
I feel your eyes on me; not just seeing, but tracing every line of my face with the kind of intensity that makes the air between us heavy and electric. It’s a dangerous game we play—this long pause where neither speaks, yet everything is said. My heart hammers against my ribs in slow motion, synchronized to the rhythm of waves crashing at our feet.
I will not turn around just yet. I want you to wait for it; I want this tension to tighten until it’s a physical thread pulling me back toward you. In this stolen moment between two lives too fast and hearts too tired, your gaze is the only warmth that can thaw my winter.

Editor: Monica