Chapter 114 - Poetry

Chapter 114 - Poetry - Apricity

The sun brushes against winter's chill,

a quiet warmth that holds no urgency.

Beneath bare branches and silver skies,

it lingers softly,

turning frost to fleeting gold.

A pause in the season's breath,

a whisper of something tender,

not meant to stay.

You close your eyes,

letting the light settle on your skin—

a gift without demand.

In this stillness,

you understand the language of the sun,

its fleeting promise,

its silent offering of presence.

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