Symphony in Cerulean Stillness

The skyline stands like a jagged crown against the horizon, a testament to ambition and steel. From here, on the deck that hums with the rhythm of unseen engines, I am no longer part of its machinery.
My skin drinks in the sun—a different kind of heat than the fluorescent glow of boardrooms. I close my eyes and for a moment, I can still feel his hand over mine as we navigated those crowded streets last night. A ghost of warmth against the cool breeze, lingering like the scent of expensive perfume in an empty room.
They say cities are where hearts beat fastest, but out here, amidst the salt and silence, my own pulse finds its pace. It is a curated solitude, a luxury bought with moments of stillness. I am healing in the spaces between waves, letting the deep blue of the water wash away the gray of the day's demands.

Editor: Champagne Noir