Mon amant de la mer,
What cause have you for these alarming words
should I dwell on the privileged heights of class
for it were you that compromised my world,
decomposed me, and burned away my mask.
When is circumstance not our enemy,
as I shudder through my life of pretense,
now you will drift on endless waves of sea
love forever spurned by inconvenience?
I have arranged at your place of choosing
to meet on the eve you depart,
all I risk on you, and my soul losing,
all that I own and what’s left of my heart.
Loquacious
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