Work Text:
Whether in the salt caught on a pacific wind,
Or the glister of the moon slanting upon the surface of a lake,
you’re there.
I found myself searching for that trace, despite the bitter knowledge of its ephemerality; It’s fragile existence.
It often dissipates long before my fingertips can graze just a wisp of it.
Perhaps they are undeserving of its grace; vengeful, destructive as they are.
I’ve stopped pursuing the breeze that may carry a whisper of you.
And yet, you find me.
A dark curl catching gold in a dying light; an ebbing caress of water against my skin.
You find me.
And your lips,
they linger.