She left with the solemn promise
To bring us colors on her return,
With her gentleman and a bottle,
Set to sea to find his fortune.

She poured him out in offering
When the maelstrom swept them from their charter,
Tea and opium from China,
He spelled a scarlet message on papyrus from the Nile,
Veils and spice from India,
With a cork from Greece and glass of Rome,

Swept aloft sepulchral ocean,
In a current benign amidst the storm,
With his woman and a bottle,
Set to sea to find misfortune,

They crafted a raft from random flotsam,
Ropes of Madagascar fibers,
Cedar timbers of Lebanon,

Alone on the island they have built,
With linen parchments,
Exotic inks,
Documenting the survival,
Trusting the moon to see them home,

The tick marks of the voyage,
Compressing as they grew,
Stains of blood on oriental silks,
Mapped calendars of Julian,
Until the day they fell ashore,

We all rose up to greet her,
As one tempestuous throng,
To hear of her endurance,
Her treaty with the hungry waters,
To set her in our waiting sands,

As night cast down upon us,
We knew that time had met procedure,
And we asked her for our color,
Which she was sworn to bear,
Recoiling indignantly,
She?d spent the last drop just to make it back.

We cast her down into the waves,
Which she alone was to appease,
And seek out her salvation,
From this darkness we create.