Sea glass winked along the shore, shards smoothed by waves’ soft tyranny. I palmed their blunt edges, thinking beauty often begins with fracture.

This caption folded molten petals into frost vows hidden quietly.

I shape ideas into experiences that move people.

True words, grace hums and makes noise disappear.

Your words looped molten roots through frost braids of hush wind softly.

Can I keep this caption like a pressed flower?

Literally feels like my brain’s spa day.

This feels like listening to the earth hum softly.