To C

Inside, inside the return, inside, the hero diminishes.
Over her vessel they place a veil, and when it is lifted
the name of the vessel has been lost. Consider
the darkness of the water which has no scent
and neither can it swallow. Yet the ship's bow
extends over the proscenium like a horse
at a fence and the orchestra stands and files out.
On the long walk home, I long to see your face.

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