Held (with Strings and Bows), Pt. 3

I let you down.

Beside the bay lay the inlet. It was an estuary, mangroves pecking at the sea, amphibious in nature-afraid of competition by trees on the land but no longer seaworthy. Without them however the whole damn thing would fall apart. Boundaries kept everything together.

Beside the bay lay the rocks. In the past, there had been a penny arcade past the jetty- Ferris wheels, cotton candy, fortune tellers, fortunes told, circuses, pickpockets, joyous laughter, embracing under the boardwalk with sand between the both of our toes, caught inside the latex of swimwear, and in all sorts of uncomfortable places. The cotton candy tasted awful; it was always singed to embers, a consequence of the machine's makeshift construction. Gradually food inspection managed to close down, at first the candy stands, then the freak museums with their curiosities in jars, then finally the entire arcade-the last blow was dealt during a 1945 fire, and it was like a fortress under siege.

I lit a f*g beside the ruins of the Castle.

Beside the bay lay all my memories, all my past loves, childhood fears, adult fears.

Beside the bay lay my solid stupid body, passed out from a night spent mostly with alcohol.