my heart walks thee down by the shore
our hands barley meet as in the evening we stroll
following lines discarded by sea, shells, weeds, broken knees
I wonder why, we go so slow, in this lonely hopeless space.
the shanty’s stench flows down in rivers golden brown
to meet the waters and kill the fish,
the miasma is quite remis,
save me ,save me. from this stench
take me, take me, to the tavern,
let us drown in your poison,
in your poison, let us sink
for we are an awkward match
gifted by aristocracy, cousins
by one parent and an uncle by the other
a repulsive discourse,
making us shudder.