A Letter the Ocean Never Sent

It said: I take what is given, but I do not keep it.

I asked if it ever tired of carrying wreckage, of holding names that no one comes back for.

The ocean laughed— a sound too wide for human ears.

It answered: Nothing stays broken long enough to define me.

So I stood there, with my pockets full of grief, and learned something difficult:

Even the deepest things know when to let go.

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