en bateau

You asked me once how poems informed me… And you asked whether we, us, depended on the game, to even be. Baby? Remember? Remember the ocean? Our dawn ocean, that we loved? We loved it because it was like us, Faye. The ocean was obvious. We were looking at something obvious, the whole time. Oceans are only oceans when they move… Waves are what keep oceans from just being very big puddles. Oceans are just their waves. And every wave in the ocean is finally going to meet what it moves toward, and break. The whole thing we looked at, the whole time you asked, was obvious. It was obvious and a poem because it was us. See things like that, Faye. Your own face, moving into expression. A wave, breaking on a rock, giving up its shape in a gesture that expresses that shape. See?