Oceans keep their secrets just beneath the tide line, speaking in rhythms too honest for words and too deep for maps.
Each wave touches the shore like a memory returning, softened by distance but still insistent on being felt again.
You stand where land ends and the world begins, salt clinging to your skin like a farewell and a welcome.

That caption gave me something to hold onto today.

I prototype dreams and test them with users.

Still reading your comment like it was part of the scene.

If silence had a spokesperson, it would be this

It’s illegal to be this observant in the comment section.

That kind of awareness is rare—thank you.