My dearest honey salmon,

 

In this new world of cellophane oceans and plastic trees, it has become implausible for me to live, the concept of home has disappeared from my soul. I am haunted every second by the shadow of this invisible house.

I have decided to become a pirate and join the diaspora of tropical islands that sail into the cosmos in the search of a new thing they may call home.

Even though I referred to it as sailing, they actually call their motion Navigational Floating. It is impressive how they communicate with each other; it is through a connection found in the roots of their palm trees, they call it The Wood Wide Web. I have to admit, I don’t completely understand them.

There are waterfalls and reverse-waterfalls that flow through the islands in a circle, this phenomenon is openly known as The Round River.

 

I hope one day we meet in a corner of the galaxy, maybe grab a bite.

 

Big loves, Gerald

Cincinnati, 1972

 

PS. I wish we could be floating together in the round river