Submerged Whisper

The shadows whisper, tracing water maps on dead walls,
the submerged city breathes to the rhythm of the waves,
every street is a breath that fades into salt.
Shell windows open eyes onto the plummeting sky,
sand streets draw squares without sun,
flashes of quiet guard a past that floats.
The towers, now spirals of current, tell stories to those who listen,
the bridges lose weight and become routes of velvet,
the echo of bells is only a mute beat of the sea.
If you are silent, the shadows draw new doors and ways,
and salty air writes our name among the corals,
until the surface rises again, gentle and unexpected.