2.1.98

My father is the pilot of this vessel,

yet it is foreign to me.

At terrible speed

we embark.

 

I search for my brother

among a multitude of strangers

or faces I memorized in ages past.

I see one I did not wish to see,

and I avoid her,

Always I avoid her.

 

I wait in my room when she knocks.

Reminds me of a celebration,

I exit to find her,

but she has left cash,

an age-old tradition,

a symbol.

 

She consults the seers,

the enchantress,

“one will ask for love,

and he will not offer,

the the other will be presented,

thus he is yours.”

 

The the cock crows.