A raw, intimate moment where vulnerability and desire blur into one breath. I’m close, so close the lens fogs. A yawn rises, slow, unstoppable, stretching my mouth wide, wider, until my jaw trembles. It lingers, open, exposed, then collapses into a soft gasp. My eyes water instantly. One blink, and tears spill. I don’t close my lids. Each sob starts as a yawn’s echo, lips parted, breath shaky. My chest lifts, falls, lifts again. Close-up: eyes red, lashes clumped, pupils wide and glassy. A fresh yawn pressure its way out, mid-tear, stretching my face into pure, helpless openness. I whisper through the wetness: “I can’t hold it… I’m letting go…” This is me. Yawning open. Crying undone.
