The sea sings in whispers, twilight dancing upon the waves. Memories dive deeper than shadows cast by winter's abandoned breath. Golden scales reflected—like stars, scattered across the abyss.
Faces not remembered, floating in a half-formed dream. Beneath this saline cloak, they gather—whispering to the moon. Questions left unanswered, Io of the waves.
The rhythm of tides, skin and sea, an unbreakable alliance of solitude whispers. Crooked smiles of brine, kelp-tangled thoughts meandering amidst the cicadas of the deep.