Work Text:
It freed us from the crying birds of the salt air and the fishing boats clinking hatefully. You held onto the helm with one hand and passed me a can with the other.
The braided flowers were rotten as soon as they dropped onto your brow. I was pleased that my petty violence would weakly nourish a new generation of useless crops. I think you were pleased to expel the lingering ghosts in your brain and make some new ones with me on that endless summer evening.
I saw the ocean rising terrifically beyond the Kingston harbor, coming to swallow us, swallow us, as soon as we stepped, inevitably, onto the boat.