Sometimes they whisper
more than oceans themselves
Yet, their echoes
bore a lifetime of silence
wrapped in calcium carbonate dreams.
Mechanically inclined to shrug off
the weight of trivialities they never got
nor distinguished,
the seashells of
mechanical irony.
One might muse,
under the din of faceless stars,
about the ether where
mismatched socks attempt rebellion.
Their echoes, too, echo in the void.