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.