This brown hand, drawing a figure, is a wooden ship that carries you over each wave on the page. The sounds you hear are from the wind and the sails, flapping over the lines that move beneath your eyes. This is a voyage for the spice trade, a voyage to fill your hold with pepper and cinnamon, vanilla and nutmeg , a voyage for sunlight and sea air. You desire nothing except to close your eyes and smell the spices without diminishment like love that in giving you receive.