Between a sun and crescent moon, he stood on deck and filled his lungs. Wind circled in the palm of his hands. Pithy, these thoughts of meditation, cacophonies of bondage caught inside an untranslated meaning of a smile. A man’s world was always noisy. He preferred the roar of cities, the motion of land, and people. He gazed at the shadow standing by the Bridge of Baiae and asked why lakes carry a belly full of sky. Then let his hands fall, like the colour of jade, into uncaring waters.