Always the sea

So near the sea
The days lose themselves
Since there are no numbered
Ways to measured her days,
To perceive her passage,
No way to receive her waves
Without losing parts of yourself.

Today could be yesterday
But how can I know?
Her face bears similar feature
To the gravestone of every year,
She shows cryptic resemblance
To ritual grieving, or
The periodic remembrance
Of catacombs for dreams.

Always the sea.
Always the sea,
All ways lead to her ceaseless
Increase and decrease,
Describing days,
Inscribing her fingerprints ashore,
Erasing the footprints of passing time.