When they buried your body at sea,

we cried an acidic new ocean.

When your body was discovered,

we shielded our eyes,

and said,

“Go back from whence you came,

we don’t love you anymore.”

Familiarity is ting,

distances are strengthening,

and death is awe-inspiring.

Make me write about someone I locked eyes with,

before their ship sank.

Make me think thrice,

before I take a second breath.

I don’tknow,

well,

let’s just rewind,

and see what the purpose of this question was for.

The ship went under,

but the debris still float above the water.

Don’t call us treacherous,

just call us the easily moved,

the when were young and pretty,

we were oh, so pretentious.

But,

we’ve grown out of the need for your attention,

grown out of burying people far away,

just to have them rise again,

and ask,

“Why don’t you love me?”

And our reply,

“Because we’ve already created an ocean,

what else is left to give you?”