Wet Stars

Where streetlights flicker and windows gleam, I heard her heels on dark concrete— sharp clicks that carved the midnight air, her cigarette a crimson flame against a city thick with dreams. "You came," she whispered, night held close, her fingers traced along my wrist, a gentle path through scattered drops, her touch a spark, her glance a vow that trembled in the lamplight's glow. Her breath, a whisper warm and soft, slipping close against my waiting skin, I felt the storm kiss flesh to flesh, her heartbeat found my restless pulse, a moment before we dared to lean. The alley curved around our forms, two silhouettes in amber light, the pavement shimmered underfoot, our hands found home, our lips found fire, we kissed like thieves beneath the stars.