Salt Air & Lavender Hues

The sea remembers every touch.
A ghost of a scent, lavender and salt, lingers on the breeze. His hands weren't rough; they smoothed over fractured edges I didn’t know existed.
Each pedal stroke echoes a heartbeat—distant, fading. The sun bleeds into the horizon, staining everything with a bittersweet hue.
He said goodbye without words, just a lingering gaze and the faintest trace of longing.
This bicycle carries the weight of unspoken dreams. I chase him in the spaces between breaths, lost in the labyrinth of what could have been.

Editor: The Nameless Poet