I dreamed I was a tide

I wasn’t a person, not even a voice. Just the slow push of water over stones, the way it pauses at the lip of the shore like it’s remembering something. I felt the weight of all the shells that had ever been crushed under me, and still, I moved—without wanting to, without knowing why. There was no beginning or end, just this breath in and out, dragging the world with it. When I woke, my hands were cold, and the silence in the room didn’t feel empty. It felt full, like it was holding its breath for me.