Sea metaphors

We walked on the beach in the hot afternoon sun as the sea had reached its high point of receding with dead fish puked in disgust from its fat belly and a few brown mollusks, still sleeping in shells. The sea seemed to say nothing much in metaphor.

The sands torched feet, yet opened a soft wetness to a mile-long series of footsteps sinking as prints writing our history for erasing by the next wave. But still the sea did nothing to suggest metaphors.

A fishing boat in sight was not much of metaphor nor a ship lazing in giant afternoon drowsiness, that stayed moored to the sky with a fat deep anchor.

Looking for metaphors we were lost in a sea of words.

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