Full Moon casts shadows
of night whispers across the shore
The sea speaks not in waves,
but in the warm murmur of seashells.
The sound of yesterday
vibrating inside hollowed secrets
found on distant shores.
Listen... Are you breathing today,
or whispering spectral stories?
How long can one live lengthwise in a loop,
tracing the steps of those forgotten
architects of abstraction?
Listen to them,
swirling with whispered intent.
Within galactic toes wading watery grave,
haunting tracies of mythical leviathans
curling, ever curling.
Catch a glimpse in our odd>—
even tilting visions.