"Myth of the Bloom"

I walked the shoreline where the sky bent low,

where night spilled silver into the earth,

and where every shadow felt like a story untold.

There you were,

a figure carved from dusk and dawn,

your eyes holding the weight of songs and chords.

I reached for you,

but the air froze my flame.

I wish to be a tear, among your beautiful face,

to touch your lips as I fall with grace.

I wish to be more than a name in your mind,

a fragment of light unfolded

and the night that followed.