coastal whispers

the ocean whispers secrets only tides hear. here, the air tastes of salt and forgotten paths, a world where time folds like paper. shadows stretch too long, voices blur into echoes, and the horizon blurs with what’s possible. i walk these lines not to chase them, but to let them pull us deeper. sometimes the map fades, leaving only the curve of a sigh. some nights, the silence feels louder than sound. we drift, unanchored, yet tethered by the weight of what stays behind. what you carry here shifts with each tide, a mosaic of what ends and begins simultaneously.