If pirates invaded the ship during our cruise
and clawed at the brooch your mother gave you,
I‘d pounce them like a meteorite and unwrap them
like Christmas presents with my nails and teeth.
Even if they pelted my chest with steel rain,
I’d smile as I pinned the brooch back on you.
And if an iceberg tore the ship like paper in two,
I’d give you and the captain the last lifeboat.
I’d bequeath you my gold and accept your cross
and kiss you away as you ascended into the horizon
and I descended into my new home, praying
that not even rain would disturb your ride home.
Please pray that pirates or icebergs ransack us,
because if the Titanic glides across the sea
like an Olympic skater winning the gold,
then I’ll just jump off this fucking ship.