blot 5

Her carved narwhale chastity belt
A myth read wrongly 
in stars illomened
Floating prone in a longboat
         oakkeeled dream
Pouch story full for nine light years alone
Rationed water drips
Manna down the sail
Her silkworms singing and minding a helm
Intent on artful drifting,
Her fingers rippling time space, So What
She murmurs lushly to the narwhale
Pulling horizon before all craft
On tethering sun 
To earth's flimsy purpose