Shield

Find a feather from the glaucous gull—pale as forgotten snow, with wings that have seen the ends of the world. With it, draw this stave upon the amnion, that strange and slippery veil that once wrapped life before breath. Use blood taken from beneath your tongue, where truth and silence sleep.

Wear it close when you sail. Tuck it beneath your shirt, stitch it into your coat, or let it rest against your skin like a promise. So long as it remains, the sea will not take you. Storms will break around you, ships may shatter, but you—you will not perish.

The ocean knows its own, and it will turn aside.