To the Harbormaster →
I wanted to be sure to reach you; though my ship was on the way it got caught in some moorings. I am always tying up and then deciding to depart. In storms and at sunset, with the metallic coils of the tide around my fathomless arms, I am unable to understand the forms of my vanity or I am hard alee with my Polish rudder
I Remember →
rabbit-light: By the first of August the invisible beetles began to snore and the grass was as tough as hemp and was no color–no more than the sand was a color and we had worn our bare feet bare since the twentieth of June and there were times we forgot to wind up your alarm clock and some nights we took our gin warm and neat from old jelly...
We laughed and laughed, together and separately, out loud and silently, we were...– Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close (via irrelevantttt)