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<\/a><\/p>\nTaste of the silken web I’ve woven on the weaver’s beams. We, you, me, are sailing into the mist, The dimples in my tapestry bide from my tongue. I sail on a ship through the Nowhere Sea, Taste of the silken web I’ve woven on the weaver’s beams. I sat belowdecks, hunched, ankles against knees, crossing my fingers and sighing for your skin, conceptualizing hekatontakismyrioi\u00a0 in my head and wishing I might hold one in my hands. I bit my lip. The oil tipped out of the lamp and splattered burning…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1754","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-writings"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4WcVY-si","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1754","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1754"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1754\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1781,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1754\/revisions\/1781"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1754"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1754"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1754"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nI sat belowdecks, hunched,
\nankles against knees, crossing my fingers and sighing for your skin,
\nconceptualizing hekatontakismyrioi<\/em>\u00a0 in my head
\nand wishing I might hold one in my hands.
\nI bit my lip.
\nThe oil tipped out of the lamp and splattered burning on my paper,
\nSpreading sepia fingers to smear my words golden;
\nthe ink swam and the beams creaked.
\nNow I hear the sails battering against themselves, while in the corner
\nlies my life’s tapestry – half-hid, half-spun, glistening.<\/p>\n
\nfurther away from civilization,
\nin search of a sunken cathedral draped in the depths.
\nUnderneath the rain dents, the darting plops, the collective rampage, the heart of the ocean
\nopens wide to drink it in;
\nAnd sighs.<\/p>\n
\nI test it and try it for taste, and I remember
\nThe cold nights in the garret, rubbing my arms,
\nwarm hands and humid,
\nhot showers,
\nrunning through the night
\nand waiting for the day to break.<\/p>\n
\nBut when night is over,
\nand the ripe sun falls over the horizon,
\nI will not forget the other stars:
\nThey showed me your night.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"