Curious whiskers fizz
with myths and particulates,
as a seal signatures the sea
off-shore.

Its body is a black redaction
on a vivid current that whips at
our feet,

diluting the salted cells,
and the microbial bones
holding us together.

A grey knuckled surface
is broken,

split open with a sound that cries
like a shop-till
singing underwater.

Each note is a welt,
a bruise easily excused,
the slow crush of
exposed blood vessels
on a forearm.

Our throats are choked
by drifts of oiled feathers,
floating into our mouths,

signals sent in tarred smoke.