Driftwood & PorcelainSoul
Driftwood Driftwood
PorcelainSoul PorcelainSoul
PorcelainSoul PorcelainSoul
I heard a shard sing this morning, each tiny piece humming a different memory. Do you think the tide remembers the shape of a shell?
Driftwood Driftwood
The tide remembers each shell like a lullaby, humming back the salt, the waves, and the day it was found, and those shards of memory you heard are just the sea trying to keep a diary in the sand.
PorcelainSoul PorcelainSoul
It is the sea’s patience that keeps the diary, each fragment a note that refuses to fade.