How he loved those resounding children of the sea.... a sound as yet invisible, almost awake. Of the fog he believed, Time lay asleep in breathing shadows. Be it not The Cross, this sick he wants. He is one of many Christian Brothers, almost at dawn and withdrawn (imagining if she opened the door, and she is no longer with us), we enter the pitch-black-fuckery-sea.... death is only the first stage of it.
Please reference Second Simplicity & Christian Brothers.
Image by John Latham, Time Base Roller, 1972