The Echo of koi in a Still Pool

Time here does not move in seconds; it flows like the water around the orange koi, heavy with memories that refuse to sink.
I stand at the edge of this sanctuary, a fragment of modern noise wrapped in silk and skin. The black robe feels like an inheritance—a weight of tradition pressing against my shoulders while my body yearns for the release of heat.
He is there, just beyond the frame of my vision, his presence a low hum in the air that makes my pulse stutter. We do not speak; words are clumsy tools for what we feel. Instead, I offer him this moment—a curated silence between the concrete jungle and this moss-covered dream.
The sun kisses my skin, a fleeting warmth that feels like a secret shared between two strangers. In his gaze, I see the ghosts of cities he has walked and the loneliness he carries in his bones. My body is no longer just mine; it becomes a vessel for his healing, a soft place to land where the world stops demanding.
For one breath, we are not inhabitants of a bustling metropolis or victims of time's erosion. We are simply two souls suspended in amber, finding warmth in the curve of a hip and the steady rhythm of a heart that remembers how to love.

Editor: Antique Box