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.