Chapter Text
-Sway-
Float lazily through the ocean,
and put your head on my shoulder,
let your chestnut hair tickle the crook of my neck.
Or sing me a song
so the sound of your voice will lull us into the steady sway
of the waves crashing
against a wooden hull.
-Night Terrors-
From night terrors Wifies is torn
screaming—
with clammy sweat coating his forehead, dripping into
his vacuous eyes, and blood rolling from his mouth
down his chin
splattering onto his shirt.
He had bitten his tongue.
When Hummer pulls him into a gentle embrace under blankets, he can only
cry quietly and shake
and shake
while Hummer brushes away his tears and whispers
platitudes of empty comfort
because no words can mend
those gaping scars.
…
From day terrors, Wifies grows silent,
flinches at the sight of a spyglass, or
TNT, or colorful feathers.
They are reminders of a life
he had so cruelly dictated—
his beautiful, little mistake.
No matter how much he tries
and tries and tries to forget
to forgive himself,
he can’t find it
in his heart.
Clawing soul.
Pitiful wailing.
His terrors and he.
-Morning Mist-
Dense fog over a reflected sky,
the wind’s arrow. I raise my arm
reach
for you.
Perhaps it is the morning mist,
or a mourning mist,
which tethers me to this place,
keeps my feet glued to the creaking
floorboards and my eyes
trained on the deck
for hours at end,
kept company by a lonely,
bittersweet breeze.
A thousand years I will wait
for you.