Warmth Beneath the Moon
Night fell softly
on the sand that carried our footprints.
The sea was singing low,
as if it knew our secret.
Let’s, Minichou…
let the night remember us.
You sat beside me,
and even with the wind moving through your hair,
I felt a warmth
that did not belong to the sun.
The griot was hot in our hands,
its spices rising like a promise in the air.
We laughed between bites,
grease shining on our fingers
like stardust on warm skin.
You lifted the coconut to my lips,
cool water spilling slow and sweet—
but it wasn’t the freshness that made me shiver,
it was your gaze lingering on me.
Let’s, Minichou…
stay close enough to hear my heartbeat.
The sand grew warmer
though the moon ruled the sky.
Your arm brushed mine,
soft… almost innocent—
yet nothing about the silence was innocent.
The ocean kept kissing the shore,
wave after wave,
like it was teaching us
how closeness becomes fire.
Let’s, Minichou…
don’t pull away now.
The night leaned in,
our breaths slowly matching,
the space between us disappearing
like a secret finally confessed.
And beneath the patient stars
we learned
that sometimes
two bodies,
two hungers,
two hearts—
only need a whisper:
Let’s, Minichou…
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