She was born in the hush of winter’s white,

a breath of snow, a wisp of light.

Soft as moonbeams on my skin,

her laughter, golden, seeped within.

Her childhood bloomed in April’s green,

mud-kissed feet where dreams had been.

She spun in fields of yellow bright,

chasing the sun, drinking its light.

The summers burned in orange wild,

freckles dusted on my child.

Sticky fingers, peach-stained lips,...

Her ginger hair in the evening glows,

His dirty blonde like fields in June,

A love that burns, a river flows,

He hums to her a gentle tune.

His dirty blonde like fields in June,

She laughs, her voice a silver thread,

He hums to her a gentle tune,

Their hearts where restless dreams have fled.

She laughs, her voice a silver thread,

His fingertips trace firelight,

Their hearts where restless dreams...

The restaurant smelled like burnt garlic and cheap wine. Olivia tried not to wrinkle her nose as her date, a man named Daniel, swirled his merlot as if he knew what he was doing. He had been pleasant enough at first, polite, even charming. But something was off. His eyes never quite met hers. The way he held his fork—too tight, like he might snap it in half.

“I don’t think we have chemistry,” she...

(Soft static hum. A pilot’s voice cuts through, weary yet resolute.)

25 years… Has it really been that long?

I stopped keeping track after the first few. The days don’t pass here like they used to—hell, I don’t even know if they pass at all. It’s just an endless horizon, stretching out in every direction, sky bleeding into sea like they’ve conspired to swallow me whole. The instruments failed th...

Oh, my love, you are the stone

tied neatly to my ankle,

pulling me down into the depths,

where air is only a memory.

Your touch is fire, scorching bright,

blistering where your fingers trace.

Your lips—like thorns upon a rose,

soft, yet eager to make me bleed.

I drown in the ocean of your voice,

saltwater filling up my lungs.

Each whispered word, a storm that breaks,

leaving wreckage in its wa...

Hush now, darling, close your eyes,

feel the earth and hear the skies.

Deep beneath the moon’s soft glow,

tiny seeds begin to grow.

Winter fades and warmth will rise,

golden sun and gentle sighs.

Soft green buds reach through the air,

waiting for a love to care.

One by one, the petals wake,

blushing pink for love’s sweet sake.

Dew-kissed dreams and breezes light,

dancing in the silver night.

...

Mira wasn’t like the others.

In a town where everyone was ordinary—flesh and blood, bone and sinew—she was made of paper. Thin, delicate, a walking stack of pages bound together in the vague shape of a girl. When she moved, she rustled. When the wind blew too hard, she had to clutch herself tightly, afraid she might scatter.

Everyone laughed.

“Don’t cry, Mira! You’ll turn into mush!”

“Careful!...

The news hit like thunder,

splitting the sky of her mind in two.

A name—his name—ripped from breath,

left hanging in the air,

a ghost without form,

a storm without rain.

She watches him, her love,

folding in on himself like a dying star,

his grief spilling in waves,

too violent to hold, too deep to drown in.

She should say something.

Shouldn’t she?

Shouldn’t she know how to mourn

for a boy she bar...

The studio lights are blinding, too bright, too white, like they’re trying to burn away something I’m not supposed to see. My name is Lena, and I’m about to meet the love of my life. At least, that’s what the show’s producers promised.

“A soulmate, perfectly chosen for you,” they said.

“A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity,” they whispered.

So why does it feel like I’ve made a mistake?

The set is ...

The night air is heavy, thick with the scent of rain that never quite falls. The sky stretches wide above us, an endless black canvas scattered with trembling stars. The world is quiet except for the soft hum of cicadas, their song weaving into the stillness between us.

Anna stands beside me, arms wrapped around herself, as if holding herself together. The streetlamp above casts her in gold, maki...