I’m shipwrecked and hopeless when your boat arrives. You offer me water and I drink in your eyes. Beautiful and certainly sure of yourself. I question everything, everything else. So we sail away on a gentle sea, but Poseidon is jealous and bitter toward me. All I wanted was not to think too much. I never got the chance to get used to your touch. And I know the story. Someday we’ll be sorry. We traveled ‘cross the ocean on a stolen wind, and the gods gave smooth waters they’d soon rescind. I used to think the Fates had it in for me, but I used you as much as you used me. By the time I stood on solid ground, your gaze had grown cold and you were eastern bound. All the stories I’ve told over drinks, and I’ve never got the chance to hear just what you think.