The Buoyancy of a Heart Unbound

I let the water rise against my palms, a tiny rebellion against the earth's persistent pull. Each droplet is a pearl escaping its tether, suspended in the humid air before vanishing into light. The city hums beyond these cherry blossoms—a heavy machine of stone and steel—but here, time dissolves like sugar in tea.
My skin drinks the moisture until it glows with a warmth that feels like an inner dawn. I close my eyes and feel your name rise in my throat, a quiet ascension toward something soft and unreachable. In this garden, I am not bound by gravity; I am merely drifting between who I was and who we might become together.

Editor: Gravity Rebel