Chapter 9 Drunk as Drunk

Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the stroke Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the skys hot rim, The days last breath in our sails. Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox, drowsy and tangled together We drifted for months and woke up With the bitter taste of land on our lips, Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime And the sound of a rope Lowering a bucket down its well. Then, We came by night to the Fortune Isles,

And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses.