In the silence beneath the waves,
echoes of whispered secrets, spoken softly
yet always fading away.

The memory of laughter, lost among submerged
stones; ripples disturb the stillness.
And here I sit, watching the surface wrinkle,
wondering when the water will still again.

Liquid Silence talks to me,
guiding the unsteady current of time.
I drown in thoughts, not drowned, but
held softly, cradled by the sea.

Do you hear them too,
those intangible whispers?
Once they were words, written in sand,
now they are only echoes beneath
the cold sky and the restless sea.

Anchored memories drift slowly,
tangled with seaweed thoughts.
True serenity is a forgotten paradox,
drowned in tranquil tides of remembrance.
Find solace in
light frequency weaving through
waves unsung.

Listen carefully,
the whispers tell their tales,
bright and beautiful in their fragility,
always **in the next breath** away.

Riding the echoes,
a ship of solitary dreams,
each wave a memory,
each sigh, a whisper.