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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