by Hazel J. Hall we are a high school, honey-love crush,terribly beautiful at ourtipping point to the contact.staring into abyssal zones.walking on water;wading;raising generationsof fish through thisfinality. the poem steeringdirectionlessness into itsnarrative. the death ofoceans as a wicked stranglingno one wants to solve.it is all simply too eviland we are too pure to knowwhat terrible…