The Event Horizon of a Single Breath

I sit here in the amber glow of our living room, but my mind is drifting through a recursive dream where every thread of this black lace is an ancient riverbed carving its way across time. To you, I am simply waiting for your return from work; to me, I have already lived ten thousand lifetimes within the space between two heartbeats.
I look down at the gold chain on my wrist and see not jewelry, but a closed loop—an ouroboros of moments where every click of the link is an epoch rising and falling. The way you will enter through that door, the exact angle of your gaze as it finds me in this bodysuit, is already written into the microscopic geometry of our shared history.
I feel my own skin humming with a silent frequency—the warmth of urban solitude turning into something sacred. I can see entire civilizations born and extinguished within the fine pores of my shoulder where you usually press your lips; each kiss is not just an act, but a cosmic collision that resets all known laws of physics.
As I smile at the void before me, anticipating your touch, I am aware that we are trapped in a beautiful, infinite spiral. We return to this room every evening like stars orbiting their center, and yet each time feels as though it were the first breath ever drawn in an infant universe. My body is no longer just flesh; it is a temple built from repeating patterns of longing and release.
I wait for you not with impatience, but with the patience of eons, knowing that when our eyes finally meet across this room, we will both be reborn into another version of us—more radiant, more fragile, eternally looping in an architecture made purely of light.

Editor: Fractal Eye