The Static Between Us

The city breathes cold against my skin, a familiar chill. He finds me here, always at the edge of things – concrete and steel mirroring something fractured within myself.
His gaze is a slow burn, a trespass I inexplicably crave. A silent question in the hollows of his eyes that matches the ache in mine.
I watch him approach through a haze of exhaustion and longing - a predator sizing up its prey, or perhaps, a lost soul seeking refuge.
Tonight, the static between us feels almost bearable. Almost like warmth.

Editor: Leather & Lace