Velvet Shadows and City Lights

The city hums a low, electric lullaby outside my window, but in here, everything is soft. I leaned against the weathered roots of this old wooden sculpture, feeling its rough texture contrast with the delicate mesh hugging my skin like a spider's silk dream.
I was waiting for him—not for a grand gesture or a rain-soaked confession, but just for that quiet moment when our eyes meet and the chaos of skyscrapers melts into nothingness. He carries the scent of espresso and midnight rain, a warmth that settles in my bones even before he touches me.
Every neon light flickering in the distance feels like a heartbeat I'm sharing with him. In this mesh-wrapped cocoon of solitude, I am not hiding; I am simply waiting for the person who knows how to read the silent poetry written in my gaze. A soft touch, a sudden warmth, and suddenly, the concrete jungle doesn't feel so cold anymore.

Editor: Cat-like Muse