In laughter that floats like leaves in the breeze

In laughter that floats like leaves in the breeze,

a friend leans forward, adjusting her necklace,

and the light catches that soft curve—

a collarbone, delicate yet strong, like threads of gold.

I pause, momentarily suspended,

it's the center of grace, the art of being seen,

a fleeting moment—a heartbeat before it slips away.

I can almost feel it, a weight of wonder, the beauty,

the bare skin exposed, raw yet painted with trust,

a boundary between the heart and the world, held, cradled,

not just skin, but a story held tight and tender.