the horizon will appear through bird-filled light. climb the highest tree until you spot the farthest ocean. go there. on the shore build a castle, and when the sea witch comes she'll show you the way to draw violet from a driftwood altar. with the tip of the first finger on your favored hand trace poems on her skin, but remember not to leave your name on her lips (she'll swallow it.) waves will bring you froth. take it into the universe between your palms and press your eyes. blink salt. (does your hair spill down your back like rain? or curl around your shoulders as roots curl into earth?) now dig a hole. get in. stay there for one hundred years, or until reluctant sunrise commits to dawn and the water moves above your head. then shift your bones; at this point you ought to have achieved flight. gather some cloud in your feathers, and come find

me.