
THE WEAVE:
Vesta floats on an inner tube, upon the Dreaming Sea. She writes, with her fingers, upon it's surface in the Sun -set...
What Now? What happens Now? What Wind and from where forth does it come from? What Deep? What silt collecting round my soles in a pondling -stream? What Cloud? What never-ending -guiding-dream? What Love? And where forth come It.