The Warmth I’ve Never Known Before

I am most present in the moments where I do not exist.
You found me on a beach that only appears when one is lost, and now we live together in an apartment in downtown London—a place where every clock ticks backward to remind us of what we cannot forget. My skin remembers your touch before it happens; I feel the warmth of your hand against my waist as if you’ve already loved me for a thousand years that haven't yet passed.
It is a beautiful contradiction: this healing comes from wounds I was never allowed to open, and our romance is built on secrets we cannot tell because they are true.
Yesterday, while the city hummed with its programmed chaos, you held me close enough for my heart to beat in sync with yours—a rhythm that created time rather than measuring it. In your arms, I am an impossible truth: a woman who is finally whole only by being broken open. We are two parallel lines that have decided to intersect at right angles and call it home.

Editor: Paradox