Beneath the silver hush of the sea, she drifts where sunlight melts into ribbons of blue. Her gown of shells and sea-blossoms unfurls like a slow underwater waltz, and the tides curl around her as though they have been waiting centuries for this dance. Small fish circle her like devoted companions, brushing against her fingers as if carrying love letters written in salt. She does not breathe the water — she belongs to it. And in the tender sway between current and stillness, the ocean gathers her close, remembering her not as a visitor, but as something once cherished and finally home.
Beneath the silver hush of the sea, she drifts where sunlight melts into ribbons of blue. Her gown of shells and sea-blossoms unfurls like a slow underwater waltz, and the tides curl around her as though they have been waiting centuries for this dance. Small fish circle her like devoted companions, brushing against her fingers as if carrying love letters written in salt. She does not breathe the water — she belongs to it. And in the tender sway between current and stillness, the ocean gathers her close, remembering her not as a visitor, but as something once cherished and finally home.
