[Captain, the barnacle markets demand men]

Captain, barnacle markets demand men with iron stomachs.

Captain, the distinction between flotsam and jetsam is a matter of interpretation.  

Captain, crew who refuse life jackets—do you love them less?

Captain, the vessel lilts because my hand imagines itself as anchor.

Captain, distance and wind mutiny to smooth over the seam we expose.

Captain, I see your jawline in the distant cliffs.

Captain, nets pass through clear water, bones that sparkle.

Captain, pearls before swine, and I construct an altar to myself.

Captain, any further into the fogbank and it becomes smoke.

Captain, my palms are palimpsests for new wrinkles to navigate.  

Captain, I remember clear nights, seeing two moons, desiring them both.