and then... the night, the fog, the silence no wind, no sleep, nomad, saudade the wail, the calms, no crux, no flux No north, no wake the same the same Passiflora patterned pale lace sail leeward, in irons sapphire silence The Dawn slowed in through the shades sunk in bed, no sight of land and then... to rise, pick up the thread and weave away redo redo all the weight of a sunken sea all the weight on all you could have been all you weave will pull you through the windlessness though that might not seem like here and now it might end someday...