vogue deutsch march 2016
photographer alexi lubomirski
stylist christiane arp
model ruth bell
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In a second after I saw this title, I reminded the same titled poem by Emily Dickinson (below)...not to mention the famous song by Morcheeba. Sea, my dear, I miss you, every day,
minute, second and who comes, live, lived or even was born there, knows what I
mean and understands my feelings.
I started early, took my dog,
And visited the sea;
The mermaids in the basement
Came out to look at me.
And frigates in the upper floor
Extended hempen hands,
Presuming me to be a mouse
Aground, upon the sands.
But no man moved me till the tide
Went past my simple shoe,
And past my apron and my belt,
And past my bodice too,
And made as he would eat me up
As wholly as a dew
Upon a dandelion's sleeve -
And then I started too.
And he - he followed close behind;
I felt his silver heel
Upon my ankle, - then my shoes
Would overflow with pearl.
Until we met the solid town,
No man he seemed to know;
And bowing with a mighty look
At me, the sea withdrew.
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