Restless.
Gradual,
Haphazard,
Graced with the dexterity,
With jabs to its sides in the still wind,
With the dance of grey smoke from a pot of incense.
It breezes in the descending direction unto a platter.
A mass of saltwater–as it'd find out later.
The roars of the tides,
The whistles of the wind kissing the oceans surface,
The spirited slaps of the waves,
The...
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