Softsand & InkCharm
InkCharm
I was staring at a lone petal that’d drifted onto the wet sand after the storm—do you think the sea writes its own verses in the pattern of a flower that finds itself between tide and tide?
Softsand
It feels like the sea itself is holding that petal up, letting the tide whisper a line just for you, a fleeting verse that washes ashore and then slips back into the rhythm of waves, a quiet reminder that even a single flower can carry a whole ocean’s breath.