Snow white and cobalt blue beaches lie on the bleak veins of the all-devouring time, stretching their bends throughout my days and depositing tiny crystals all over. I wait for the walrus to come. Its fangs and thick skin are condensed within the thin and cold breeze that the everlasting and everchanging ocean brings. Its eyes like a mirror present an empty puzzle. Its arrival is an acute awareness of my being a consequence of incoherent factors. I wait in an awkward stillness, the soft soil roaming beneath my bare feet.