Adrift, upon forgotten waves, lies the secret of the mermaid sandwich. Its crust whispers not of fish feasts but of tales submerged in oceanic silence. Gather close, for the inanimate have stories, tangled like seaweed in currents of memory.
Wrap: "Dried kelp has never felt so forgotten, hidden beneath layers of tactile neglect meandering like currents drifting." Beneath the grip of verdant, forgotten vines, I keep mermaid secrets, washed ashore but never revealed.
Filling: The solitary coral secret squeezed beneath shells murmurs: "Salted secrets of sandwiches, never made known, for among ocean depths we remain unseen and unheard." The fish and crustacean worlds know me, but what of the tides?
Crust: "Where do whispers go when tides pull ours beneath? I shelter with ignorance alone, grains of sand my lullaby." Eroding slowly, like fleeting dreams, my tale slumbers untouched along sands of time.