The tide a weird princess, I come to memorize her codes of skin
Goose-fleshing in my wake while
Currencies of plastic thicken
The air above the water. I sift through them on the nightly row
I do for her carrot
Despite the chill. Her sea is full of information
Glittering as the green
Carriage she buys & returns & swerves past me in, & is
The carrot, its leaves riding waves stamping the shore.
You ask again of its leaves? A roof
Flecked with radium
Scratches off her father’s watch, glowing as a tide of fireflies
Advances through our wood, drips its passwords into
The water spelling out your name. The sea is never full of wood.
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