First morning on the galley, I've rallied all hands when cries came from the crows nest. We've been festering with the rest of the rowers in slow death. My cold breath joins perfect silvery wisps drifting silky. Wiggly slivers commiserate and hiss mist milky. This conquest of "blank" shapes I'd set my sights on dissolved when my ship met a formidable tentacled opponent of stone faced resolve. Lone ranger stalled long enough for us to scramble up her starboard and soon we were dropped off at a foreign dormant harbor. Calcified sails with handshakes forged in disorder and cast off from docks toward a questionable border. Once botched but never again cause I've been praying to Poseidon for safe passage on a journey I bet my little pride on. Keep the light on, I told y'all I'd be back from the Dark Door, and true to form I've returned for at least one more before. So, how bout we get it going? I see a landmass not on my map. Tried home life with roses but I'm stuck in the discoverer life sand trap.

First island is a sea serpent taunting you with it's tongue. Second is in the waters from which the sirens sung. Bird ends not his flight on the perches of the third. On the fourth, the brightest sun rays disperse while horizon burns. I've been to the fifth and seen nothing, it's a world engulfed in shadow. Met a horned bull on the sixth, he flicked his tail, I made his list. Wind shifts, the seventh breaks its fast first with dawn. I etched Imago Mundi from the oceanic lines my life had drawn.

Sea spray licking, rogue waves come kicking but I'm sticking to my mission, fishing for something missing. Over two decades spent in a blacked out gallon fishbowl. Carnival mallet to temple. Kanamits seem simple after a terpsichorean deluge held me hostage and what I saw as my only locksmith proved to be a caustic driven allergenic leech that beached itself, exhausted, like a Melvillian monstrosity that got fed up and finally lost it. But that's old news, enough living in those memories, I wanna meet all antichthones and even all their mortal enemies. Cause there's a side to every story and this story's a fractal octagon and I'm watching every one from the inspection house in the panopticon. Yes, alienation's possible but that machismo's fucking ignorance, recognize we're a common people with a common wish for ascension so that day to day is important. I try to keep ember eyes on ice as often as I can but sometimes we all have our nights…

Been sitting here with a whetstone for a few too many moons, let that succubus croon till she almost had me in my tomb. (Sharpen that blade.) Teeth gritted against the supernova contorting it's endless spine practicing rattlesnake yoga. (Just sharpen your blade.) A sword length shriek breaches the quiet and echoes out of earshot on a radio wave riot. Found the an hero pilot, cross-eyed but in action for a second he redacted but proceeded to lose traction. I'll right this winged ship but only till I'm rested, then I'll flip us bottom up stranded in waters untested. Confess your methods were blind leading blinder, all led by blindest and we can set course to leave the mountain range minefield behind us.