Fortify now:

You have lost

your astrolabe and cast adrift where souls find no purchase …

sent to the middle of the sea and left to die

You, pathfinder

your celestial measurements, your calibration, your metrics, your calculus

Them out to sea to die

You not the land, the lie,

The land and its lie, a garden lacking any fish, a garden devoid of any stars

You the court astronomer

You were left to die in the engorged abdomen of the large sea

To save his soul from profanation by the creator of the astrolabe, the crystal compass, the copper staves,




yes, and



have drowned your son.

say something nice ... or not

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