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Golden Whisper

Creative 51 days ago
  • User
    Linsey Living
    51 days ago
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    The sun rose soft with honeyed grace,

    A warm hello across my face.

    It kissed my skin, a glowing thread,

    Like love that speaks, but nothing’s said.

     

    It danced along my collarbone,

    A golden touch that felt like home.

    Not harsh, not loud, just calm and true—

    The kind of warmth I never knew.

     

    So I stood still, arms open wide,

    Letting sunlight rest inside.

    Not every kiss must come from men—

    Sometimes, the sun says "love" again.

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