Echoes in the Empty Gym

Dust motes dance in the fading light,
a ballet of solitude, just for tonight.
The scent of sweat and steel hangs in the air,
a stark contrast to the silk ribbon in my hair.
I trace the curve of my collarbone, a silent plea,
for a touch that lingers, a gaze meant only for me.

He appears like a phantom amidst the weights and bars,
a shadow lengthening as daylight dims behind the stars.
His eyes, they hold stories untold,
a quiet understanding, more precious than gold.
A simple nod, a shared glance in this cavernous space,
enough to ignite a flicker of hope on my face.

We speak not of futures, nor dwell on the past,
but savor the moment, knowing nothing can last.
His hand brushes mine as he reaches for a towel,
a current that surges, threatening to unravel.
This isn’t just fitness; it's a rhythm we find,
two souls colliding, leaving all worries behind.

The gym empties around us, yet I don't feel alone,
in his presence, a sanctuary built for two alone.
He says nothing of dreams or ambitions so grand,
only offers the warmth of his calloused hand.
And in that touch, gentle and slow,
a promise whispered—where else would I go?

Editor: Lyric