Vg Hotbit888 — A Sea It Cannot Return To

A salted mackerel
Lies cold upon the table.
Its blue back buried
Beneath the gray salt.
It longs for seas
It had to leave behind.
A hollow sea
reflected in its eyes.
When the chopsticks
Tear a piece of flesh away,
You close your eyes
That never closed in death.
While someone drinks and laughs, mm,
The blue sea emerges,
Ground to pieces.
Did you engrave the ocean on your back?