© Steve Gray 2026
The sand was spun from frozen honey, catching the lazy sun.
A wave of sheer happiness broke, silent and swift.
Grains of sand were tiny bells ringing with warmth, while people, rushing elsewhere, failed to see the flowers blooming from their own shadows.
But there we were holding each other close under a sky painted with the sound of a delicate embrace.
Our laughter tasted like light and gold, a single, suspended delicate moment.
