Within the conch's embrace, we hear the palpitations of time.
Have we not all, at some point, pressed our ears against the vacuum of past moments, seeking solace in refrains of nostalgia? Inside each shell lies a universe of stories, untold and unfinished. What tides whisper to you in the solitude of your aquarium heart?
The sea does not know boundaries, and yet, we build walls of certainties around our ephemeral pools. In the rhythm of waves and sighs of winds, we listen for a melody only audible in the corridors of what it means to be. Are you the echo of a resonance remembered or a symphony yet composed?
In pursuing the horizon, we collect fragments. A name, a refrain, a story untangled in dreams. These echoes linger in the alcoves of consciousness, waiting to dissolve like mist at dawn or to be chased, tethered to the footnotes of an unwritten book.