The Eternal Return to a First Kiss

I am running toward you because I remember that we have already said goodbye. It is a curious thing, this summer; the sun warms my skin with a heat that feels like a memory of tomorrow.
You stand there on the shore, your eyes holding the weight of ten years and not a single second. To love you in this city is to exist in a beautiful contradiction: I am falling for someone who has already forgotten me, yet he knows exactly how my laughter sounds when it breaks against the salt air.
I wear this teal bikini because it was your favorite color before we ever met—a detail that proves our history is written backward. As I splash through the surf, each drop of water is a clock ticking in reverse, erasing the distance between who we were and who we are becoming.
When you finally reach out to pull me close, the touch is an impossible truth: it is both the first time your hand has brushed my waist and the thousandth time I have felt its warmth healing every urban scar on my soul. We are locked in a loop of longing where the end is merely the beginning dressed in sunlight.
I smile because I know that tomorrow, we will meet for the very first time again.

Editor: Paradox