At the end of the sea – where the white curls stiffen,
far away from toast or jam –
are the sea creatures crowding, pinkly.
At the end of the sea, and the end of the sky,
their humid lungs are heaving; the wheeze
and spume of their vasty breath
makes a fume shot with scarlet twinkling.
At the end of the sea, where the drawer of the world
snicks shut, and the water quivers –
there the emotional sea creatures crowd,
and the anxious anemone shivers.
See Niya Christine's story painting, Emotional Sea Creatures.