It started with her—
    cutoff jean shorts,
    a firecracker red shirt,

    and a slow, deliberate smile that hinted at mischief.

The kind of vision that sticks in the jingle channel.

The setting made no sense—
    a diner that served
    nothing but popcorn.

    Moonlight pouring in through mismatched windows,
    alternating sunsets and sunrises, like a strobe light.

Every glance she threw
    felt like a spark,
    igniting something deep,
    something primal,

    something that felt like a memory of a memory.

Her touch was electric,
    soft
    yet
    certain,

    a whisper of a promise that lingered on my skin.

The air grew heavy,
    each moment stretched thin—
        another touch,
        a heartbeat,
        a pause,
        a breath held,

        just long enough to feel the weight of wonder.

Suddenly, we were dancing—
    naked on the sands
    of a glowing beach,
    birds soaring overhead,

    the waves humming a rhythm only we could hear.

Laughter broke the silence—
    hers: rich and intoxicating,
    mine: caught between surprise and surrender.

And just before the dawn’s light
    crept into the corners
    of that impossible place,

    there was a moment—
        brief but full—

        where the world dissolved,
        and nothing existed…
                            except her and I,
                            both content,
                            bodies entwined,
                            hearts racing,
                            every sense alive,
                            finally exhausted,
                            and both:
                                     infinitely satisfied.

I woke up smiling,
    the memory of that dream…
                             lingering

    like the warmth of a fading flame.