Whispers of Tide and Morning Light

At four in the morning, the coastline is still steeped in ink. We sit side by side on rough reefs, listening to the waves kiss the shore again and again, like tireless lovers whispering love words. The sea breeze threads through her hair, gently pressing a few stray strands against her blushing cheeks. Dew drops on her eyelashes refract tiny rainbows in the morning light.

Footprints chasing the waves are deep and shallow, as the salty sea wind carries laughter. Her skirt is dotted with glistening water droplets, like a moonlit fairy who has mistakenly fallen to earth. The moment the tide laps over our ankles, time seems to stretch infinitely long—long enough for me to memorize the scent of sea salt in her hair, and this eternal dawn that belongs only to us in the vast world.