Erosion Lente

She wasn’t standing, she was floating.

I knew every inch of her. Every line, every curve, every detail of her skin was a map I had memorized by heart.
I could have drawn her in the dark.

And yet, the moment she wasn’t in front of me, she became something else.

She blurred into something larger than form.
Slipping through my hands even as I tried to hold her.
Every edge blurred into the current, every line dissolved into memory.

I saw a tide, a current, a moon. I saw the mystery of night rising inside her. I saw in fragments, in pulses, in waves that drown more than they reveal. Not sharp, not defined.

She loved the sea, the kites, the dives, the salt that never left her skin.
She always belonged to the water.

Waves don’t destroy stone in a single gesture. They erode it slowly, curve by curve.
Maybe that’s why she returns to me like this. Half-woman, half-water, dissolving into blue.

Presence and absence at once.