i.

half asleep, his yellow raincoat
gathers drops of rain—pearls, he says, pearls

ii.

he wants to laugh but if he
laughs now he will cry and if
he cries now he will scream and
nobody will see his ocean pearls they
will only see a mad man.

iii.

the way others see us, the way we want them to—
the shame and thrill of that.

iv.

and now he is
a perfect picture
an overgrown selection of
your nerves
charting every movement of the sea.