As with this old seeping, creeping age
Reality? Or perception of a cold, sleeping dream
Blurring the fading pictures of a wandering life
Slurring the mouthless words, adrift each night.
Her long, long hooped stocking legs walking
Mumbling her mother-tongue, unknown language
Paraded through an aquatic zoo of the dead
Faded, once staring, bright unblinkable eyes
All lifeless, beautifully naked and spotted
Captured in the ocean's death nets, garrotted
Marked with the freckles of the sea's trillion
A touch of slime, then time back to oblivion
(D'Talipapa: fish market, Boracay)
© Harry Mills
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