we

the sky is a strange kind of blue

the sun a slow walk of light under water

the only real colour the neon orange of a safety vest

the pink of a sea cucumber on a pale seabed

a wall of ancient corals had been split in two

a pier in smithereens next to a colony of coke cans

warm, milk-white water from an old well

drawn in a black plastic bucket tied to a black rubber rope

the air still

the mangroves float on the surface of water

the sun right on top of your head

obliterating your shadows

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