As if time itself could loosen its grip around us and forget how to move forward. As if clocks could learn tenderness by watching the way your arms settle around me, slow and sure, like they were always meant to be there. In that quiet enclosure, the world softens. Noise turns distant. Thoughts stop colliding. I become lighter, as though my bones finally remember what rest feels like. Hold me the way evening holds the sky, without urgency, without questions, just a gradual deepening of warmth. Y

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