Where Tides Leave Stars

I dreamt I walked upon a shore that did not know the sun. The background was a profound, silent blackness, an abyss that swallowed all light and sound. Beneath my feet, the ground was a dark, wet, glistening expanse, mirroring the void above. With every step, I disturbed a dormant constellation, for the tide had receded, leaving behind not foam or shells, but a wavy, shimmering surface composed of countless tiny white dots. Each dot was a captured star, pulsing with a faint, cold light on the wet sand, a beach made of night itself where the ocean was the cosmos.