Hydrophilia

Shores caress through weathered reefs, as foams embrace the soles of dwellers; Rays may pierce, though balanced by breeze; Now, I know why souls loathe leaving. Nothingness seen through murmurs in the air; Fowls chant caws before kissing the waves; Pick the carapace that hermits left, and listen to the carols of alto waves. The subtle bite of brine on lips invites one to perform a solo French kiss. The balm of the palms and coconut leaves enchants beings to succumb in hypnosis. As the floor stoops nearer the heart of the earth, blue transitions from cerulean to cobalt. Through gossamer film, a menagerie performs enthralling victims to plunge the deep.