Light had not yet met its shadow.  
And water was but a mirror.  
And the One walked the forgotten shore, leaving no trace.

She spoke not;  
for when the sea whispered,  
what need had she of words?

What washed ashore  
was not decayed but unraveled—
laden with what it kept.  
It awaited neither a hunter  
nor prey.

And she gathered  
what fell from the sea’s mouth,  
bound them in knots.  
For from the shell she fashioned a whisper—  
not to be heard, 
but to be beheld.

It was said unto her,  
“Verily, the shell is the fracture of time;  
and each body,  
after that which went before,  
resonates anew.”