27th February 1671

I have given nothing and asked for less, All those who know me are flotsam and jetsam on a minimal shoreline and still I breath and wonder and ask. The world turns through clocks and stars and nothing in peticular, I curse dim salted sailors and lobsters who hang on every word. Bring on the mad sea, bring on the surf and tide and twist of life lived upside down, give me an end that I can see and trust and a story written large.

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