The ocean breathes, a gentle pulse beneath a shroud of fathoms, whispers echoing from the crusted abyss. A heart of ink and azure depths—the rhythm of time stretches, writhes, unfurling like a forgotten lover's sigh.
Lanterns of coral flicker in the gloom, a dance of ghosts where memories intertwine with heatless flame. There, beneath the glowing arches, phantoms laugh and weep in cyclical harmony, sharing secrets with the currents.
Here I am, lost in the saline maze of reminiscence and desire, the mind's echoing chambers sifting through sediment and shadow. Words slip through gill and gland, streaming like tides pulled by unseen moons.
Glimmers twinkle in the labyrinthine darkness, a mosaic of time's careless weaving. Do you remember the echo of laughter? How it vanished, scattering like a shoal of silver in the deep?
Every thought a droplet, every droplet a word unspoken. The tides carry them onward, their destination unknown but undeniable. Phantoms cling to the lanterns' light, their dance a timeless rotation of embrace and escape.
Perhaps we too are phantoms, woven into the fabric of this cosmic sea, drawn to the flickering glow of distant fires. Is this memory I cherish, or merely the reflection of a dream not yet dreamt?
Echoes in the Abyss