Where does this vessel belong?


Is it the child’s tenderness?

Is it the encounter's redolence?

Memories linger on the skin


Where has this vessel traveled?


On waves of emotions?

To the carelessness of random havens?

Entangled nets by now remain


The lotus fruit is sweet no more

Dry land where lemon tree groves once were

You were my tree

You were my root


The day I return

The palace is dark and empty of suitors

and your endless web has cracked and withered

The vessel belongs

The vessel moors

Was Penelope ever there?