He was a Cape Cod boy, feet slit by seashells and neck scorched by sun. His heart-murmur faded with the seasonal sandbars. Yet his fresh, brown freckles were lost in the paleness of winter. He kept warm with his memories and his remaining sea mussels. And there was a boy who grew beyond sand dunes and hermit crabs, beyond scraped knees and lemonade.
Growth knows how to separate the green from the brown.
And he's an even uglier swan. His cavities seem to run deeper than the rest. He's slippery to the touch. His days are filled with computerized conversations And best case scenarios. He takes the pretty drugs with those pretty pictures on them.