claire lives up on saint mary's walk
with her mother. and i live down on
philomel by the harvor and i hate the
ocean. well, claire says she'd throw
me overboard, then that she loves me
and then she kisses me on mouth, and
says i'm ugly, and i hear the ocean
roar. the water pulls around the pier,
dark and rusted, and i now the kidest
face with a sailor's eye still can't be
trusted. but i feel the ocean sell.