shallow currents

the sun slips through shutters i just checked and it's... i laugh about how nobody sees the cracks beneath the shine. neighbors whisper tales too, but they’re tales of whispers. reviews murmur like secrets i can’t hear. some say the coast hums low, others say it screams. i drag my boots toward the map to trace its edge. recall trips to tripadvisor where bars blurred and yelp turned to silence. look further-the view shifts, shadows stretch, and i keep navigating. that’s the mess alive here, a patchwork of light and forgot things. some say beaches wear masks; others just hide. i’ll stay, let this chaos linger, touching surfaces raw and unpolished. we map what we can see, but leave the rest to breathe.