Like it is with any ocean

I can smell the sea,

the stuff she’s  made of:

salt, sea weed

dead fish, tar

wood, tanning lotion

sadly drowned sailors from a far,

like it is with any ocean.

 

Like it is with any ocean,

I can stroll along the sea

her surface dark, lead grey or turquoise blue

and, underneath, the skeletons

are strolling too, along with me.

I can smell the sea.

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