look! it's a boat.

look! it’s a boat.

it rocks with the waves.

it floats. it creaks and leaks.

sometimes the rocks crack it open like an egg, and

all the yolk spills out into the sea.

a boat carries just enough weight to stay barely afloat.

how many boats does it take to make you happy?

when is a boat no longer the boat you loved, theseus? when do you stop loving it like you did when you first bought the thing?

how many fathoms below the surface were you when you realized this is no longer my boat at all? a fathom is six feet, theseus.

we measure the ocean in the bodies it would bury.

boat swamping is a situation where water enters a boat and overwhelms its capacity

to stay afloat.

am i the boat?

am i the flood?

does it matter?

either way the back of my throat is dry.

look! don’t you see it?

an iceberg, captain, off the port bow!

aren’t you happy? don’t you see? we can drown in it now, captain, never even touch dry land again, captain. don’t you see? a beautiful eternity looking at the sun through water,

light through water, captain we can look and look and never go blind

see how she scrapes her side on the ice, oh the screeching of seagulls compares in pitch but not in length of note, ending much quicker than this prolonged screaming. it’s horrific, captain, can’t believe my eyes, captain, the ship hull is cut open and she’s bleeding

dark blood swirling on the ocean’s surface, all over her surface, and i stand on the deck of you and watch as everything goes under.

the moment we sink is the moment it becomes quiet, captain.

do you understand?

it’s a boat, captain-

and it’s sinking.