Come Closer
Come closer, he says,
beckoning with a gesture so slight it could be missed -
if not for the way his eyes hold yours,
unblinking, unhurried,
as if they’ve already decided.
The fire behind him glows,
casting gold across brick and bone,
but that is not the heat you feel.
It’s in the space between you.
In the way the silence leans forward.
In the way your breath forgets its rhythm.
He does not move.
He does not speak again.
He waits.
And somehow, that waiting feels like touch.
The room is dressed in shadows.
You haven't moved.
But you are already closer.
Come Closer
Come closer, he says,
beckoning with a gesture so slight it could be missed -
if not for the way his eyes hold yours,
unblinking, unhurried,
as if they’ve already decided.
The fire behind him glows,
casting gold across brick and bone,
but that is not the heat you feel.
It’s in the space between you.
In the way the silence leans forward.
In the way your breath forgets its rhythm.
He does not move.
He does not speak again.
He waits.
And somehow, that waiting feels like touch.
The room is dressed in shadows.
You haven't moved.
But you are already closer.