Salted Syllables in the Amber Light

The sun bleeds into the sand, painting my skin in shades of honey and heat.
I sip the amber nectar, watching the ice dance—a fragile rhythm mirroring my own heartbeat. Here, where the tide whispers secrets to the shore, I am unspooling. No longer a ghost in the city's iron ribs, but a creature of salt and light.
My gaze finds you, not because you are here, but because you are always there—a phantom pulse in my wrist, an echo of your laughter against the roar of the waves. The bikini is a second skin, cool metal biting into warmth; it marks where I begin and the summer ends.
Let the world spin on its axis. For now, let me drown in this golden pause, tasting your name in every drop of citrus and salt.

Editor: Lyric