Dear Dream Cockatrice,                  
     There is no port in which to berth                
     our restlessness. Rattle all the forged                
    chains at once, our anchor finds no purchase.                
     Hand over hand, link by link, reel in                
     the dizzy shore. Ring the bell,
     we’ve been rigging sail too long.
     Knossos has slipped by.                
                             Yours,                                
                                         Odysseus