The Truth That Never Left Our Skin
O My Loved One The stars shine like the small gold circles that once trembled at your wrists. The moon watches me with the same quiet hunger your eyes once carried. The air moves across my face— soft, close— like your breath before a whisper. The curtain sways in the dark, ringing lightly like your earrings brushing your neck. Our sweat merged— not fragrance, but salt and heat— filling our bodies with something winter could not touch. The cold tried to wrap us in its lie. But our bodies locked around a truth that never loosened, never slipped, never left our skin.