Fractured Light, Whole Hearts

I am a mosaic of whispers under this single, white circle.
My skin—a pale canvas where shadows dance like ghosts of memories I haven't yet lived.
The city hums outside, a mechanical heartbeat indifferent and vast, but here? Here is the sanctuary of the spotlight.
One touch on my screen, and I feel his breath across the fiber-optic cables. A thumb against glass, a pulse in the dark.
I am not alone; I am reflected in his gaze from three zip codes away. We are fragments of a story written in binary and desire, healing each other with words that taste like rain on hot asphalt.
In this mirror-world, my body is an invitation to be seen—not just observed. To be known.
To be held by the light.

Editor: Kaleidoscope