The ancients spoke of fluid hieroglyphs, merging currents sketching narratives on the bedrock chronicles. Imprints, fingerprints, salt-drenched wisdom, waiting to be deciphered.1 Existences overlap like echoes, rippling into unsaid destinies. Complexity waltzes in, a capricious tide.
Were the stars not oceans themselves, inky depths above and below? The moon, a silvery shell, oscillating around a centre unknown, caught in the grand undulation. Stories overlap, interlace like kelp forests singing sonorous elegies.2
1 *Rental of spectral lineages; The intertwining draughts of fortune and folly, Chaliomof's Theorem, vol. III, p. 124, Year Unknown.
2 The inextricable hymn of aquamarine murmurs. Télor Wasgarn, [p. 86], Configuration Number 7, Iluminaire Library 1582 Edition.
The crescendo of oceanic conversations unfolds; whispers of light weaving truths in tides unseen, while waves converse with their fragmented selves. Listen.