Animating the Vectors To lean down over the prow and watch what is parsed to starboard and port. To soar up into the air to a point of stall and turn and descend. To be the becoming of a loop in a length of string, over and under making for return. To climb hand over hand into wakefulness. To lie on the bed in the last dark. To hear through the open window rain splatter on leaves and slap the patio concrete. To listen to the silence of the house and the breathing of the beloved and the two cats (also beloved) and the silence of all our things carrying on being whatever they are, all on their own.