The Sea Seeks Its Own Level Erin Espelie, 2013

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The snotgreen, scrotumtightening sea. An empty bay: history is to blame, unhating. They are coming, waves, whitemaned seahorses, wind brindled. Drowning they say is the pleasantest. See your whole life in a flash. Salt green death, spiked and winding cold seahorn, music everywhere.